Dagor Dagorath: The Second World
by Poison1234
Summary: Long lost shall the history of the elves of Middle-Earth remain, yet as time passes, remnants return, piece by piece. Dagor Dagorath has passed and the dead elves have been revived in Valinor, yet the folk who dared not leave find that the bonds that left them hidden from man are breaking. From here on in, it is a simple matter of trust in man and trust in themselves.
1. Prologue

**Summary:**_** Long lost shall the history of the elves of Middle-Earth remain, yet as time passes, remnants return, piece by piece. King Lithinduiel, son of Legolas and Valariella, his brother and chief councillor, Battresinduil, their younger sister, Vivrendella, their friend Huor Séregon, and the remnants of the elven kingdom of Greenwood struggle to coup with the growing change to their world. Dagor Dagorath has passed and the dead have been revived in Valinor, yet these folk who dared not leave find that the bonds that left them hidden from man are breaking. Soon, as they had been discovered by an old Hogwarts headmaster in the 11**__**th**__** Century, they send a representative who held a power similar to his own, learning how to use it properly to defend his people. Huor now stands amidst the broken walls and shattered past of his people and must defend a poor boy from a miserable fate given to him that he doesn't understand. **_

**Disclaimer: **_**I own nothing but Lithinduiel, Battresinduil, Vivrendella, and the other elves that might appear in this story. Anything Lord of the Ring related belongs to J.R.R. Tolkien and anything Harry Potter related belongs to J.K. Rowling. **_

**A/N: **_**So, yeah. First ever crossover. Wish me luck! **_

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_Draco Dormiens Nunquam Titillanus. _

"'Never tickle a sleeping dragon.'" Huor sighed, shaking his head. His silvery blond hair shone in the moonlight as he gazed up at the dark castle in the distance. "I never understood why they called it that." Battresinduil chuckled, tucking a loose strand of dirty blond hair behind his pointed ear. "Hey, at least it's better than, say, '_Amans, quod non est in cubili non omnino amator'_ *." His friend turned his gaze to him, blinking in disbelief. "Really," he asked. "Must your mind sink so low in the gutter?" The other elf just laughed, his boisterous voice echoing in the darkness of the night.

A slight breeze blew in the air, both elves' hair flowing in the air as if by magic. The night stars twinkled in the sky, the moon shining brightly as it did before the elves left for Valinor. _Valinor_, Huor thought, his eyes turning downwards in a sad shine of greyish blue. King Lithinduiel, son of Prince Legolas of Greenwood and of Lady Valariella of Rivendell abide by his mother's wish to keep the land safe and sound as she sailed to her husband in the Undying Lands. She said that he was needed here, to stay for as long as he deemed necessary to watch over man and keep them safe. Huor stayed because this young prince needed him. He needed a friend from the old days to watch over him, to help him in his choices. Then, as he grew older, young Battresinduil was the one to do just that. Vivrendella was still young but had slowly matured as her brothers needed her to. However, Huor still stuck around, even when the king bid that he could leave. _'I will go when you go, young Lithin,' _he had said. _'Not before.'_

Now, as his greyish blue eyes turned to the castle on the cliff, Huor found himself holding to his promise by a thread. Glancing down to the sword under his black cloak, he smiled. _Ohtar Alqua_ had been with him since he was elfling. Roughly translated into common, it meant "Warrior Swan". He remembered a time when he named it after the beautiful Lady Galadriel's swan boat. In honor of her, he kept the sword as a reminder of a past long forgotten. The elves within this Forbidden Forest were old. None wanted to forget what had once been and none wanted to leave. They were loyal to the young king and they encouraged him in his duty. But slowly, ever so slowly, they were growing restless. Why must they continue this journey and deny the need to return to the Undying Lands?

Huor shook his head. Battresinduil turned his gaze from the castle to him. "Are you well?" The silver haired elf gave the other a smile. "I am. I just worry," he replied. "Do not fear, little Battre." Battre frowned. "I'm not little anymore. Why do you insist on calling me so?" Huor gave a laugh. "Well, compared to me and many of the others, you are little." Battresinduil huffed, rolling his eyes. Returning his eyes to the sight of the castle, Huor spoke softly to his companion. "Another year at this school. I wonder how it will turn out."

The dirty blond haired elf looked to him. "Are the rumors true then? About the boy with the lightning scar? Harry Potter, son of James and Lily Potter?" Huor shrugged. "In truth, young Battre, I do not know. How old was he when the Potters last visited? Three months? I find that time passes so quickly, I cannot remember." Once again, the younger elf rolled his eyes. "In any case, if he does come this year, will you hold to Dumbledore's word and protect him? I do not know for certain, you know them better than I." "I will do my best. But this boy, I do not know what to expect."

Battresinduil gave a bark of laughter. "Well, if he's anything like his father was, he's sure to be trouble!" Huor chuckled. "I honestly hope he's more like his mother, all kind hearted was she. They say that he has his mother's eyes." "As is a common trait among human children," Battre replied, pointing to his own greenish blue eyes. "And elven children as well." "Indeed," Huor replied with a grin.

"That being said," he spoke, standing from his spot amongst the bushes, "I find it is time for me to take my leave. 'Tis a long walk to the castle." Battresinduil stood, placing a hand on his shoulder. "You will visit, will you not?" Huor smiled at the youth. "Always," he replied, placing his own hand on the other's shoulder. With that said, Huor turned from the young prince, his black cloak falling off his shoulders and blowing out in the wind behind him. The circlet on his head was old, being worn once by Lord Elrond at his council concerning the Ring of Power. The ring he wore on his right thumb was silver with an emerald gemstone and the bracelet he wore on his left wrist held a charm shaped like the Lorien brooch. His gloves were white, surprisingly not dirty from the dirt he now walked on. His silver tie was tucked into the black vest he wore. In addition, a white dress shirt, black pants and silver heeled boots completed his attire.

Huor Séregon walked with a pride that rivaled that of many Slytherin students he had taught over the many decades, his steps leading in the direction of a rundown path that led to Hogwarts castle, a school for young wizards and witches to control their magic. Reaching into one of the pockets in his pants, Huor pulled out a wand made of oak and unicorn tail hair. The unyielding wand was a light brown, a silver leaf on the side and various smaller leaves circling the handle. At the bottom was a small green gem and a silver design similar to that of an elven sword. Raising the wand into the air with his left hand, he spoke softly the words '_Expecto Patronum_'. Immediately, a large elk came from the tip, surrounded by light and galloped into the distance of the castle. The new year was about to begin.

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_***'Amans, quod non est in cubili non omnino amator' **_**is a translation of 'A lover that is not in bed is no lover at all.' Ask Google Translate. **


	2. The Feast & History of an Elf

**Disclaimer: **_**Anything that is related to J.K. Rowling or J.R.R. Tolkien do not belong to me. Sadly.**_

**A/N: **_**If you're reading this, it means that you survived the prologue. Congrats, I should give you teddy bear hugs. *Gives you hugs* Alright, the story's going to start to get more interesting here. Another note, I will be following the Harry Potter BOOKS, not the movies (though I do think they're awesome) and the LOTR movies ('cause they're more simple than the books). **_

_**Alrighty then, let the story, BEGIN!**_

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Huor Séregon sighed, taking a small sip from his wine glass. The students all filed into the Great Hall talking loudly, all with bright smiles on their faces. He felt his lips twitch upwards as he watched them. All of them were children, after all. Well, compared to him at least. In all honesty, he was a bit surprised that he wasn't dead yet. However, that was to be expected from being an immortal elf.

Sitting to his left was Madam Hooch, the flight coach and instructor. She was the one who taught young witches and wizards how to fly a broomstick. Currently, she was engaged in conversation with professor Flitwick, the Charms teacher. On Huor's other side sat professor Snape, the Potions teacher. Leaning back in his seat, his glass in his left hand, Huor glanced at the man out of the corner of his eyes. He had a large, hooked nose and greasy hair. He sat rigidly, his eyes watching the children carefully, studying them. A grimace came to Severus' face when he saw the Weasley twins sitting at the Gryffindor table. Huor chuckled, shaking his head. The Potions professor turned his gaze to him, his black eyes narrowing.

"I do not know what is funny, professor Séregon," he drawled, his eyes staring at him intensely. Huor took another sip from his wine glass, a grin on his face. "Only how serious you seem to be this year," he replied, his greyish blue eyes dancing in amusement. "A galleon for your thoughts?" The Potions professor rolled his eyes, turning his gaze once more to the students. "Need I remind you, Severus," Huor said, idly watching the children in amusement, twirling a lock of his blond hair with a finger, "That you can call me by my first name? We are, after all, colleagues, aren't we?"

Snape snorted, his dark eyes flickering to him for a brief second. "You were a teacher here since long _before_ I arrived. You taught me in First Year basic hand-to-hand. It will be a rather long time before I call you by your given name, professor Séregon." Huor sighed, rolling his eyes. He looked at the other man, a cheeky grin appearing on his fair features. "Very well then. I'll have you know that you would need to live for a millennia before you would accept it. I know you, Severus." The Potions professor just rolled his eyes. Huor threw back his head and laughed. His elf eyes saw how Snape's lips twitched upwards.

The elf turned his attention away from the man beside him, glancing to the door at the end of the hall. The children were all seated, chatting anxiously to their friends. Minerva had gone outside to greet the first-years as Hagrid brought them him. He found himself smiling in anticipation. The First Years. They were always there, a reoccurring pattern that came every year. Without them, Huor wouldn't have a class to teach and it would get very boring.

Professor Huor Séregon was the teacher of Hand-to-hand combat and Weapons training. These weapons didn't include wands. This class was about self defense, about what to do when your opponent managed to get your wand away from your grasp. He taught them how to defend themselves with old Elvish techniques, that surprisingly still worked in this day and age. This included both the use of martial arts and weapons, such as swords, daggers, and bows. In their first-year, it was a necessary class that must be taken. After, as the students continue in their school life, they can drop the subject if they wished in their Second Year.

Just then, the doors to the Great Hall were opened, the large figure of Hagrid walking into the room behind Minerva McGonagall, the Transfiguration professor coming into view. The older students all turned around in their seats to see the new children who would be beginning their magical education. Huor found himself glancing over their faces, staring in awe at the ceiling as it showed the night sky above their heads. A bushy haired girl spoke to the others about it, having read about it in _Hogwarts: A History_. Huor's lips twitched upwards once more. His eyes scanned the crowd, finding that he recognized many of the young children from what their parents looked like.

_There's a younger Bones, a Brown, another Weasley (how many children did Arthur and Molly have?), a Parkinson, _he thought. _Ah, I see Lucius and Narcissa's son, he looks just like his father…. _Soon, Huor found himself looking into green eyes behind a pair of square-framed black glasses. Blinking, he saw unruly black hair and a lightning bolt scar on his forehead. _Harry Potter? He has finally come? _The boy looked nervously up at the professor's table and met Huor's eyes. The elf smiled kindly to the boy, smirking as he leaned over to whisper into Madam Hooch's ear.

"My elf eyes see the son of James and Lily Potter approaches," he muttered, his eyes flickering to the boy in question. The flight instructor's eyes widened, turning to look at him. He nodded in confirmation, tilting his head to the Boy-Who-Lived. She gave a small nod in return, leaning to mutter in Flitwick's ear. Huor turned his attention back to the crowd. Many of the first-years had their eyes on him, his pointed ears standing out from the row of teachers. He gave an encouraging smile.

"Who's that?"

"Is he an elf?"

The person's voice who's rose above the rest was the young Malfoy's, a taunting smirk on his face. "My father mentioned that an elf improved his sword techniques when he was in school," he boasted. "He said that he was one of his favorite teachers." Huor felt himself grin, lifting his wine glass from the table and raising it with a nod to the Malfoy. The young blond gave a triumphant smirk to the other students. Huor sipped his glass.

McGonagall walked around the staff table, pulling out a four-legged stool and placing it in front of the first-years. Then, with one snap of her fingers, Minerva summoned the Sorting Hat from Dumbledore's office and set it onto the stool. It sat silently for mere moments before the bottom half of it opened, appearing like a mouth. Then, it sang:

'_Oh, you may not think I'm pretty,_

_But don't judge on what you see,_

_I'll eat myself if you can find,_

_A smarter hat than me._

_You can keep your bowlers black,_

_Your top hats sleek and tall,_

_For I'm the Hogwarts Sorting Hat,_

_And I can cap them all._

_There's nothing hidden in your head_

_The Sorting Hat can't see,_

_So try me on and I will tell you_

_Where you ought to be._

_You might belong in Gryffindor,_

_Where dwell the brave at heart,_

_Their daring, nerve and chivalry_

_Set Gryffindors apart;_

_You might belong in Hufflepuff,_

_Where they are just and loyal,_

_Those patient Hufflepuffs are true_

_And unafraid of toil;_

_Or yet in wise old Ravenclaw,_

_If you've a ready mind,_

_Where those of wit and learning,_

_Will always find their kind;_

_Or perhaps in Slytherin_

_You'll make your real friends,_

_Those cunning folk use any means_

_To achieve their ends._

_So put me on! Don't be afraid!_

_And don't get in a flap!_

_You're in safe hands (though I have none)_

_For I'm a Thinking Cap!_

Placing down his glass, Huor clapped along with everyone else in the hall in applause to the Sorting Hat's song. Even after many, many years, the blasted thing had never once changed the lyrics to its tune. Looking down at the children, Huor smiled in encouragement. Some looked excited, like the bushy haired girl and the young Malfoy, while others, such as the Weasely and Harry Potter looked queasy and nervous. Though he wasn't surprised, Huor himself was like that when he tried the hat on. He had been more confused than anything though. The old hat had a hard time choosing a house for him, yet it somehow did. He shared many qualities with all of the houses. With Hufflepuff, loyalty and hard-working; with Ravenclaw, quick thinking and wit; with Gryffindor, daring and bravery; and with Slytherin, cunning and resourcefulness*.

Slowly, but steadily, McGonagall read the names of the first-years off a sheet of parchment in alphabetical order. The number of students dwindled down as more and more tried the hat on and took their seats with their appropriate house. Then finally:

"Potter, Harry!"

Many voices were heard all around the room, whispers of excitement coming from the students at their tables. Harry walked up nervously to the stool, sitting and placing the hat onto his head. Everyone sat with baited breath as they watched the Boy-Who-Lived. After what seemed like forever, the hat finally gave a loud shout.

"Gryffindor!"

The Gryffindor table erupted in cheers, the loudest that had to be heard in the history of Hogwarts. Huor winced, bringing a hand to his ear in an attempt to block out the loud noise. But he smiled, watching as Percy Weasely shook Harry's hand and the twins, Fred and George, yelling in victory: "We got Potter! We got Potter!"

It only took a few moments before the others found their places, after which Dumbledore stood in front of the entire school to give a few words of welcome. "Welcome! Welcome to a new year at Hogwarts! Before we begin our banquet, I'd like to say a few words. And here they are: Nitwit! Blubber! Oddment! Tweak! Thank you!" As soon as the Headmaster sat, food appeared on the plates in front of everyone. Huor felt himself rolling his eyes and huffed in frustration. The mashed potatoes were on the opposite end of the table.

* * *

Dumbledore made the food disappear just as everyone finished, clapping his hand for everyone's attention. Huor sat up straight, his wine glass refilled and his almost non-existent appetite satisfied. Clearing his throat, the Headmaster opened his arms to ceiling in greeting.

"Ahem – just a few more words now that our bellies are full and stuffed. I have a few short start-of-term notices to give you." Dumbledore pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose, clearing his throat. "First-years should not that the forest in the grounds is forbidden to all pupils. We do not wish to disturb the peace of our woodland neighbours," he added, looking over his shoulder to Huor. The elf nodded, though his eyes twinkled. "A few of our older students would do well to remember this." The Headmaster's eyes glanced over to the Weasley twins.

"I have also been asked by Mr. Filch, the caretaker, to remind you all that no magic should be used between classes in the corridors. Quidditch trials will be held in the second week of term. Anyone interested in playing for the house teams should contact Madam Hooch." Once again, Dumbledore cleared his throat. "And finally, I must tell you that this year, the third-floor corridor on the right-hand side is out of bounds to everyone who does not wish to die a very painful death." At this remark, some of the students laughed, though not many. Huor sighed, shaking his head. Dumbledore said it so bluntly, yet there will always be the few students who's curiosity was too great for their own good (…. The Weasley twins….).

Then, clapping once more to get everyone's attention, Dumbledore raised his face with a smile. "And now, before we go to bed, let us sing the school song!"

Huor felt the smile on his face twitch ever so slightly. _Of course he would do that…._ Turning, Dumbledore pulled out his wand and a golden ribbon flew out, floating to the back wall above their heads. With a wave of his wand, the old Headmaster called to the students, "Everyone picked their favourite tune, and off we go!"

The school sang loudly, their voices off key, and all singing at different times. Huor winced, rubbing his right ear painfully. Elf ears were rather sensitive to loud noises. This of course is the downside of having such good hearing.

Finally, as the Weasley twins finished last with a sad, slow funeral march, Dumbledore conducted their last words. Everyone, including Huor who tried to ignore the pain in his ears, clapped in appreciation. Huor had a fixed smile on his face. As the applause faded, Dumbledore wiped a tear from his eye. "Ah, music," he sighed. "A magic beyond all we do here! And now, bedtime. Off you trot!" And with that, the students filed out, the first-years following their Prefects.

* * *

The next day, Huor tapped his foot impatiently in the classroom at the end of the third corridor on the left side of the stairs. First-year students filed in, in twos and threes, chatting idly as they entered. The door closed behind them when the last members of his class, a young Mr. Potter and Mr. Weasley rushed in just as the bell tolled. He held his arms crossed over his chest, continuing to tap his foot as he waited for them all to quiet down. Which they did quickly when they noticed his stern expression. When they all sat still, Huor uncrossed his arms, turning to the chalkboard and picking up a piece of chalk.

As he wrote on the board, he spoke quietly. "Gryffindor and Slytherin houses in one morning, I'm not really surprised." From the quiet shuffling his elf ears heard from behind him, Huor noted that they seemed nervous. Finally, he replaced the chalk down and faced his class.

"Hand-to-hand and weapons. There are a few other ways to defend oneself besides magic. It is a very primitive way, yet effective." He walked over to his desk, picking up _Ohtar Alqua. _Examining the well crafted elvish sword, Huor continued to speak. "Magic will not always be there to help you. There are ways to disarm a wizard or witch of their wand, whether it be a spell or melee. However," quickly turning, Huor raised his sword and flung it. The blade flew through the air like an arrow being shot from a bow. It hit the wooden door with a clang, sticking out of the wood. The students all had shocked expressions, turning their faces back to look at him.

"I am here to teach you how to use these weapons," he continued, speaking as if nothing happened. "Or, how to weld something similar to these weapons. One can turn a muggle steel pipe into a powerful bat, or a switchblade into a worthy dagger." Huor placed his hands behind his back, staring into all of their eyes. "I am here to teach you how to defend yourself with these weapons _and_ how to fight dirty. So, young ellith, if you have dainty hands and are afraid of breaking a nail or two, then this isn't the class for you." He gave a cheeky grin as a few of the male members of his class snickered.

"I am Huor Séregon, your professor for this class. The art of weapons and hand-to-hand combat has been a tradition for my people since more than a millennia ago. I will be teaching you some of the basic techniques that are necessary when defending yourself with these methods." He calmly walked past the admiring and nervous looks, walking to the door. Grabbing onto _Ohtar Alqua_'s handle, Huor turned the blade in the wood quickly, drawing it out from the door. It had left a rather sword-shaped hole. Pulling his wand out, he tapped the hole with the tip. The hole was gone and appeared as good as new.

"Note, young ellith and ellyn that if you aren't careful, you could hurt yourself and others," he slowly walked back to the front of the class, swinging the sword in gentle arcs around his body. "One must know the first thing about handling any weapon, sword, dagger, bow, or fist, that you must be cautious. If your enemy has a weapon such as this and they are running at you, what do you do?" He stopped, pointing the tip of the metal blade into young Gryffindor, Seamus Finnigan's face. The boy stuttered in surprise before he answered. "I would try to disarm them."

Huor nodded, smiling. "That's exactly it. Ten points to Gryffindor. That's exactly what you must do." He continued on his stroll to the front of the class, stopping beside the young Malfoy's desk. "You are without your wand, Mr. Malfoy. The enemy had sliced your hand, making you drop it. What do you do?" The grey eyes of Lucius' heir looked at him with confidence. "Take control of the weapon," he replied. "If that doesn't work, disarm them, just get that weapon away from you." Once again, Huor smiled. "Exactly so. Ten points to Slytherin." He returned to the front of the class, ignoring the raised hand of Hermione Granger. The girl sighed, dropping it onto her desk.

Placing the blade on his desk once more, Huor walked over to the board. Once more he picked up the chalk, and turning to face the class, tapped the white writing utensil to the board. He had written several words on the board, set up in a large elaborate diagram. In the center was the word 'defense'. Branches extended around the edges with the different methods of defense; 'Bow', 'Sword', 'Dagger', and 'Hand-to-hand'.

"We will be starting with hand-to-hand," he said, tapping the chalk onto the word's bubble. "Before we move to daggers, then swords, then finally, the bow." He placed the chalk back down, going back to his desk. Leaning, he pulled an ornate bow out from behind his desk. Reverently, Huor rubbed his fingers over the bow's delicately designed leaves. "The bow will be learnt last because of its difficulty. Swords and daggers required strength and speed, yes, but the bow requires a focused mind in addition to these two other attributes." Putting the bow onto his desk gently, Huor looked at his class. He met each of their eyes, lingering on Potter and Malfoy, as well as Granger and Weasley.

He grinned. "Any questions?"

Hermione's hand immediately shot up anxiously, followed by a few others. He chuckled. "Yes Miss Granger? A question?" She lowered her hand, staring at him with large, chocolate eyes. "I have never seen an elf before. Can you tell m- I mean, us about your people?" Many heads nodded in agreement, though the Slytherins' were hesitant. Huor gave another chuckle. "What do you wish to know?"

"What are elves like?" He found himself looking to Padma Patil, her eyes blinking and a light blush on her cheeks when he smiled. "It depends. Many elves are like humans with one special difference; we are immortal." The class started whispering. "How old are you then," as Ronald Weasley. Huor gave a cheeky grin to the red haired boy. "Much older than you, Mr. Weasley. My people have been alive for many centuries, ever since the earth was reborn again, in fact." More whispers were heard.

"What do you mean 'reborn again'," asked Granger, her eyes wide with anticipation. Huor stepped lightly around the side of his desk, sitting onto the wooden chair. He felt the old adrenaline of storytelling coming into his blood. He looked out into the eager eyes of his students.

"Long before Hogwarts was built, long before the human deity Jesus came into existence, the world was very different. It was once called 'Middle-earth', for it was the middle ground in which the Valar created. The elves were the first created, their fair features being modelled after the gods themselves. They were created and settled the land of Valinor. However, circumstances made it that the elves were to travel to this Middle-earth, to help man and dwarves begin, for they knew not how.

"As the ages grew on, and man learned how to live, the elves began to sail over the seas to return to Valinor, the Undying Lands. They found that their business on Middle-earth was complete and they wanted to rest in peace until the end of days." The students were enthralled with his tale, listening with rapt attention.

"However, some remained behind, hiding away in the woods, never to be seen. One day, many, many years later, a battle was prophesized. The tale of a Dark Lord arriving to destroy the Valar and all of their creations. The prophecy became true when Valinor was attacked. Many elves, men, and dwarves died, but it was worth it. The evil was gone, struck down by Túrin's blade, and the dead elves returned to life in their old glory, the gods becoming young once more.

"They did not know, however, how this would change the world. The first music was loud and beautiful, yet the time of the elves had long passed. After this battle, a new world was created, life rising from dead soil. This second music was greater than the first, bringing hope to this new world and to the Age of Man."

He fell into silence, watching their reactions before continuing once more. "The elves that remained hid away, protected by our Gods' magic. However, sometime in your eleventh century, when the first Headmaster of Hogwarts was introduced, he discovered a miracle. Elves within the forest beside the school, hiding away in their talans above the ground. He greeted them, and let them be. Their king, Lithinduiel, son of Legolas, accepted this and in thanks for their promised peace, sent his own friend to teach students at his school. That friend, was me." Students all around gasped in amazement.

Huor chuckled at their reactions, shaking his head. "Are the elves still living in the Forbidden Forest?" He turned his gaze to Harry Potter, the boy's green eyes shining. Huor nodded, smiling softly. "And Lithinduiel is still their king. He has two younger sibilings, Battresinduil and Vivrendella. When their parents sailed to Valinor over a millennia ago, I stayed behind to help and raise them. The elves thrive within the forest and it's best not to disturb them."

Huor turned his head, turning to look out the window at the sun. He gave a sigh, kindly smiling to his students. "I will let you go a few minutes early. Have a nice day!" The first-years stood from their seats quickly, chattering loudly to each other as they left the room. Huor chuckled. The first class seemed to be more of a history lesson than a defense lesson.

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***I felt that it would be a good idea to leave Huor's house anonymous and let the reader decide which house he should be from. If you leave a review telling me which house and WHY (can't forget that), I might mention it in a forthcoming chapter. **

**Ellith: Female plural **

**Ellyn: Male plural**


	3. Hallowe'en & Quidditch

**Disclaimer: **_**I'd like to introduce you to Harry Potter, owned by J.K. Rowling, and Lord of the Rings, owned by J.R.R. Tolkien. They will be present to make sure I don't claim rights of ownership.**_

**A/N: **_**Thank you elvesknightren and Furionknight for being the first two to review this story. Love you guys *Winks*.**_

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Already two months into the new school year, and already Huor found himself with a rather smart class of students. He liked those kids, the ones able to never run out of questions. He, of course, answered them as best he could. However, he came to realize that some of his vague answers only drew more questions. Why did he never learn?

He found himself feeling more comfortable with the double Slytherin/Gryffindor first-year class, surprising. Especially the young Malfoy, Granger, and Potter. These students seemed to wiggle their ways into his heart, much like a few others that he knew. These students asked personal questions and he found himself telling the class more about his people and the older students that he had, had. He spoke of Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy, much to the liking of young Draco. He spoke of more famous members of Wizarding history, in favor of Hermione. And with the young Potter, he spoke about his parents.

"Your mother _hated_ your father when they first met," he remembered saying. "It doesn't exactly help that he found her attractive. Him and his friends would pass her in the hall, young James throwing a flirtatious comment in her direction. Lily would reply with a witty response that even the Slytherins found amusing." Harry had blinked and leaned forwards in his seat, his eyes burning with curiosity. The other students were back to whispering. "If they hated each other so much, how did they come to have me," he asked, almost sadly. Huor gave the boy a kind smile. "As the years went by, James matured. He slowly stopped pulling pranks, stopped bossing younger students around. He became an adult. And in their seventh year, when he was Head Boy and she was Head Girl, he asked her to be his girlfriend. And she said yes."

Young Harry Potter started to warm up to him after he spoke of that, asking more questions and participating more in class. He greeted Huor in the halls when he saw him, always with a large grin on his face. And in return, Huor answered any questions he had about his parents; what their favorite subjects were, their favorite colors, little things like that. Harry Potter was an odd one, he knew that for certain.

For one, the boy had somehow made the Gryffindor quidditch team. He heard about it during breakfast from Madam Hooch and professor Flitwick who were speaking about it at the time. Huor didn't know the details of how he managed to get on the team, but Huor knew that it was genuine. In fact, that had been the main topic of discussion when Huor saw him in the halls later that day.

"So, Gryffindor Seeker? My, my, have you got much work in for you," he had said, flashing a grin, his greyish blue eyes twinkling. Harry had blushed lightly. Then he looked up nervously. "Professor, might I ask you something?" Huor walked with his down stone hall. "What do you wish to know, Mr. Potter?" The Boy-Who-Lived paused, idly rubbing the hem of his sleeve. "Hermione said that my father was also on the Gryffindor team…. Is that true?" The grin on Huor's face grew. "A Chaser, he was," the elf replied fondly. "One of the best. With quick reflexes as well. Whenever he played, it was always rather entertaining." Harry smiled, thanking him before running into his next class.

* * *

Now, at the time of the Hallowe'en feast, Huor sat with the other teachers once more at the professor's table, chewing on a piece of _lembas_, elvish waybread that he carried with him at all times, and sipping lightly from his wine glass. Small colonies of bats flew through the air above their heads as everyone in the Great Hall joked and laughed as they enjoyed their evening meal. The air was lit with an almost eerie orange glow, illuminating pumpkin jack-o-lanterns hanging from the ceiling. Huor smiled, one of the bats flying down to him, the elf holding out the remaining _lembas_ to the creature. It snatched it from his grasp, flying once more into the rafters of the roof. Chuckling, the elven professor spooned himself some of the mashed potatoes (he wasn't surprised that Dumbledore had intentionally placed the bowl on the opposite end of the table during the Start of the Year feast.) and began to eat, glancing around the hall.

Suddenly, the Great Hall's doors flew open with a bang, everyone in the room turning their heads in surprise to the disturbance. Professor Quirrell, the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor, ran into the room in shock.

"Troll!" He screamed, pointing behind him. "Troll in the dungeons!" His running came to a halt as he gasped for air. "Thought you ought to know," he said quietly, before falling forwards onto the floor in a dead faint. The Great Hall erupted in panicked shouts from the students, many of the younger ones clutching to their older peers. Huor had a deep frown on his face, his hands covering his sensitive ears, his mashed potatoes forgotten on the table. Dumbledore stood from his chair, pulling out his wand and several firecrackers exploded at the tip of it.

The noise stopped immediately. Huor lowered his hands. "Prefects," the Headmaster said softly, "lead your houses to their dormitories immediately. Slytherin house, remain here for a moment." The other students began to file out, all desperate to get to safety. Dumbledore turned to Huor. "The Slytherin house dormitories are in the dungeons," he rumbled, the old man's eyes serious. "Lead them there safely. Take one of the secret passages." Huor nodded quickly in response.

"Alright everyone," the elf called, swiftly leaving the other professors' sides and to the front of the pure-blood house. "Follow me, quickly now. No falling behind." And with that said, Huor Séregon led Slytherin house to their dungeon dormitory with a speed that rivalled a flying broomstick at full speed.

* * *

Many hours later, as Huor stood outside of the Slytherin dormitory entrance, he heard the sound of footsteps at the end of the hall. Whipping out his wand, Huor pointed it at the figure as they turned the corner. Mr. Filch raised his hands in surrender. Lowering his wand, Huor gave a nervous grin. "Sorry," he said, looking around. "I'm on edge." The caretaker snorted, shaking his head. "Came to say that the troll has been caught," Filch muttered, walking past him and lighting the lantern in his hand. "How?" The two stood like that, side by side but looking in opposite directions. "Potter and Weasley," Filch replied, spitting onto the ground.

Huor nodded, feeling the burning urge of curiosity cropping at his brain. However, he supressed it as he willed his feet to move. As he walked down the corridor, Filch continued in search of the other teachers still in the dungeons.

* * *

Huor stood at one of the many windows overlooking the courtyard, the cold November air blowing through his hair as he stared out into the depths of the sky. Today would be the start of the quidditch season, the very first game being between Slytherin and Gryffindor. Long had the two houses hated each other, for reasons that Huor could only guess at. He looked down into the courtyard, the sight of Harry, Ron, and Hermione drawing his attention. Behind them was the familiar blue fire in a jar that he had seen many times before. Most likely that they were using it to keep warm.

As he was about to call out to them, he saw Snape approach, speaking to them before taking the book that was in Harry's hands. As Snape walked away, the trio seemed to mutter angrily to themselves, their voices too low for him to catch from where he was. He shook his head, sighing before he looked over to them once more. "Miss. Granger!" The trio looked up at him in confusion. "Put that out," he shouted, nodding to the jar. The three children looked down, slightly ashamed as Hermione put the fire out.

Huor pushed off the ledge of the window and made his way indoors. That was something that he noticed. He noticed how the bushy-haired girl started to hang out with the two boys after Hallowe'en. When he had returned to Dumbledore after learning that the troll had been taken care of, he was told how Miss. Granger was saved by Potter and Weasley when she went to take it on by herself. His ear had switched. Over the years, Huor, as well as many of the other elves, had taken to reading people. The instant that Minerva had said that Hermione was at fault, he knew that _someone_ was lying. He supposed that after that incident, the three had become friends. And Huor had to admit, he was glad. The young Hermione Granger needed more friends.

* * *

Huor sat on the edge of his seat as he watched the fifteen brooms fly into the air. The Keepers flew to the fronts of the goal posts, ready to block. The Beaters hit their bats on the sides of their broomsticks in anticipation. Madam Hooch threw the quaffle up, and immediately, young Angelina Johnson of Gryffindor scooped it out of the air. They were off.

"And she's really belting along out there," spoke Lee Jordan, this game's commentator. As the boy spoke adamantly about the match, Huor found himself chuckling in response to many of his comments. Suddenly, a flash of gold caught his attention. Huor's elvish eyes could make out the intricate pattern of the golden snitch as it hovered in the air before fluttering off at a high speed. "My elf eyes see the golden snitch right over yonder!" He pointed out at the edges of the field, many of the other professors' eyes following his finger.

"-and Chaser Bell and speeds towards the – wait a moment – our favorite Elven professor has spotted the Snitch!" Huor could hear the murmurs from the crowd, the tips of his ears turning a light pink, as he let his hand drop to the bench once more. _Favorite Elven professor? How embarrassing! _His eyes continued to follow the Snitch as the two Seekers flew in a rapid dash to reach it.

However, as Potter closed in, Marcus Flint, captain of the Slytherin team, rammed into the young first-year. Potter flew off course, almost losing control. A large ruckus could be heard from the Gryffindor stands as they called a halt to the game for foul play. Huor's eyes turned back to where the Snitch had been hovering to find that it disappeared. He frowned, scanning the field in search of the flying gold ball. A soft, gold glint caught his eye and Huor smiled, deciding to keep the Snitch's location all to himself for the time being.

However, his attention was forced away from the small object to see Harry Potter jerking around in the air, almost as if attempting to throw its poor rider off. He gasped, bringing a hand to cover his eyes as he watched young Potter start rolling over and over in the air. A feeling of fear came into his chest. The rest of the spectators started to take notice, their gasps being heard. Huor stood from his seat, quickly rushing out from the stands and behind the bleachers. He immediately caught sight of Snape muttering, his eyes never leaving Harry, attempting to counter the jinx. He ran past him, towards Quirrell, who was leaning on a nearby wood beam, the normally nervous acting professor also muttering.

Huor knew it. He had this feeling in his gut telling him that _this_ was where the trouble was coming from. Quickly walking around the many patriots standing behind the bleachers, Huor made his way to where Quirrell was standing and threw a rather strong punch into the back of the man's head. The DADA teacher gasped in surprise, toppling over onto the floor. And just as quickly, Huor disappeared into the crowd and back to the bleachers just in time to see Snape's cloak catch fire. The Potions professor noticed it just in time as well, quickly standing and stomping it out. Huor noticed a bushy-haired brunet flee the scene.

Sitting next to Snape, who was once again watching the game, Huor leaned over. "I took care of the instigator," he whispered. Snape's lips twitched upwards as he gave a small nod. The game ended just as Harry Potter nearly swallowed the golden Snitch.

* * *

After the game, Huor followed Snape back to his office. The Potions professor sat at his desk, Huor leaning on the bookshelf. "I hope you didn't damage Quirrell too badly," the black-haired man asked, pulling out a quill and began grading the potion assignments of one of his classes. "He'll have a bruise, nothing that won't heal," Huor replied, reaching into one of his coat's pockets. The elf pulled out sheets of completed homework that he had assigned. Nothing too difficult, just testing what they knew, if they remembered anything important. Taking out his own quill, Huor began marking.

Snape had nodded in response. Besides that, the two didn't exchange any other words as they worked in peace.

* * *

**I apologize for the shorter chapter, my exams are coming up so I have to start studying for them. *Sigh* **


	4. Christmas Holiday

**Disclaimer: **_**I do not own Harry Potter or Lord of the Rings. Sadly, I must also add that I do not own any of the characters as well.**_

**A/N: **_**On with the story!**_

* * *

As _rhîw_ approached, Huor found himself becoming excited. A strange custom, this "Christmas" was, he found. He had always loved the giving of gifts, yet found it slightly odd that this custom didn't have to be entirely sincere. Like the old muggle myth of two brothers sending a pair of pants back and forth every Christmas. That made no sense!

However, he welcomed the cold, chilly air of _rhîw _by opening the windows of his classroom, much to the displeasure of his students. "It's so cold," they would say, but little did they know about elves. Elves aren't entirely affected by the cold temperatures, and being unnaturally light, are able to walk on the snow. This had proved to be very amusing to Huor when he would see the unfortunate students buried waist deep in the stuff.

Whenever he would look out the window of his classroom, Huor would see the lake frozen over with ice almost thick enough to walk over. He tried it once many centuries ago, but forbidden himself from doing so again after a first-year student tried to follow, only to break the ice and fall in. In addition, the winds became stronger as the months grew colder and colder, seeming to almost lift the elf into the air whenever he attempted to take a walk outside. Trust me, he knows how unpleasant it truly is. He also found himself helping Hagrid as the game-keeper took to patching up the owls that were diligent enough to brave the fierce weather. The poor things.

Huor noticed how the students were becoming excited over the prospect of the upcoming holidays, many of them exclaiming how they couldn't wait to spend Christmas with their families. Of course, he also noticed how some of the students muttered quietly to themselves, in envy almost, for they would not be going home that year. The blond haired elf felt a slight pity, for he himself would be taking some of the holidays to spend time with his people in the forest.

As Huor walked down the hallway, his heels clicking on the floor and his old Slytherin scarf around his neck just for old time's sake, he thought to himself about how he should go about his day. He would be leaving the castle soon to attend the elven feast which Lithin would be holding, also spending several days there before he returned. Yet, that wouldn't be for a few hours.

Many of the students had already left, so Huor would only see a small amount of the usually busy student body milling about, minding their own business. Click, clack, went his shoes, the sound echoing throughout the empty halls. He thought about the gifts he would be giving to many of his elven friends, how Battre would love the new quill and parchment he bought, how Viv (that is, Vivrendella for short) would adore the tiny stuffed unicorn (which was rather realistic, as it pranced about often after he enchanted it), how Lithin would like the new collection of emeralds he had discovered (surprisingly, he took after his grandfather, Thranduil, with his love of shiny emeralds). He knew that Galadella (Viv's friend and daughter of Caran) would carry around his gift, a mirror, almost everywhere she went, and he also knew that Celeduil (Gal's younger brother, son of Haldir) would take a liking to the new sword that he crafted just for him. Ah yes, he knew these young elfings well, yet he always found it hard to find new gifts to give. It had been a millennia, after all.

Finally he stopped walking, only to find himself outside the library doors. So caught up in his own thoughts, he didn't realize where his feet were leading him! Lightly, he chuckled, shaking his head as he opened the doors and quietly stepping inside. The smell of old books filled his nose as he entered the dusty room, his keen elven eyes darting slowly, lazily, this way and that. He took careful strides to the bookshelves, the remembrance of his interest in a book of Elven history entering his mind. Nodding to Madam Pince, the librarian, he lightly tapped the sides of the books with one gloved finger, brushing the dust away to read their titles.

"Hello professor," a familiar voice said. Huor looked over his shoulder to see young Draco Malfoy, the Slytherin carrying a single book in his hands, his usual followers (Huor found it rather impolite to call them "lackeys" or "cronies") nowhere in sight. "Why hello, young Draco," the elf replied, turning around to face the boy. He leaned on the ledge of the shelf. "How may I help you?"

"Actually, I was thinking that I could help you," Malfoy replied, giving a smirk. Huor raised an eyebrow, amused. "Oh? And how is that?" Malfoy held the book out to him. "My father said that he remembered you always taking this specific book and checking it out of the library every Christmas. So, I thought I would get it for you." Huor's lips twitched upwards into a mirroring smirk. "Why, thank you Draco. That's awfully kind of you." He took the book from the younger boy's hands, examining it. It was indeed _The History of the Elves: Astonishing Truths_.

"Why do you take that book out every year," Malfoy suddenly asked, raising an eyebrow of his own. Huor chuckled in response. "I take it out because we elves find it amusing," he replied, smirking as he opened it and skimmed through. "I bring it with me to the forest, and after we have all had our fill of dancing and rejoicing, I pull this out and read it to all those assembled. _'But alas, one had always known that the elves were of a dangerous nature! They held their love for good wine and jewels close at hand, never letting unlucky prisoners escape from their clutches!' _He gave a quiet chuckle, shaking his head as he closed the book, quoting one of the many pages.

Draco followed in his quiet laughter, yet he held a curious look in his eye. "Are any of that book's facts true?" Huor gave a grin to the young boy. "Well, most elves are dangerous if one has reason to provoke them. Also, we do love good wine and jewels. Yet unlucky prisoners of many sorts can leave whenever they wish, though we would not make it easy for them," he drawled, bringing another smirk to the boy's face. Huor stood straight, nodding to the exit. Draco followed him as he signed out the book and stepped back into the hallway.

As they continued down the hall, Draco asked more questions, ones that he willingly answered. His class had asked him many of these same questions, yet he did not answer them before. These questions included 'You were in Slytherin house?' and 'Why did you not tell us before?' and of course, 'Why are you telling me this now?'

"Well, young Draco," Huor replied, a kind smile on his face, leather-bound book under his arm. "Yes, I was in Slytherin house. I also did not tell you before because of how people think." At this, the elvish professor brought a gloved hand and tapped his finger to his head. "One can describe a Slytherin as a 'blood-purist' or 'selfish'. And, yes, most of those traits are true, I suppose. However, they can also be determined and clever. I was placed into Slytherin because these traits I exercise the most. That, and I didn't really care which house I was put in." He cleared his throat. "I am telling you this now because you asked. I find it more simple to talk one-on-one to a person. Before, it brought the old feeling of eyes staring at me, accusing me for something I did or didn't do. It's just easier this way."

Draco appeared to think this over for a bit before he finally answered. "Well, I truthfully think that I agree with you to some extent. My father told me that only pure-blood wizards get placed in Slytherin though." "And he's correct," Huor replied, raising a hand in greeting to professor Sprout as she passed. "However, there were a few muggle-born students that were placed in Slytherin, yet those were rather few and far between. There are also many half-bloods, yet not as much as pure-bloods. This is probably because of family and the child's views, but I'm do not know for certain."

After many more questions were answered, Draco Malfoy seemed to mull over his teacher's words, politely excusing himself. As Huor watched him go, he shook his head, sighing. _The poor boy has much to think about in the times ahead of him_, he thought. In a dream, he saw for a brief instant an older Draco, opening a cabinet with dark shadows spewing from inside. He believed that this was a vision, yet he dared not mention such a thing to the child. Elves possessed slight gifts of foresight, yet many such things were meant for the bearers of the Three Rings, powerful enough to fully interpret such things. Of course, how would he know for certain? The ring bearers had all already sailed to Valinor, never to return.

Huor turned the corner, his heels clicking and clacking down the long, empty hallway to the exit.

* * *

_Tom, he was a piper's son,_

_He learnt to play when he was young,_

_And all the tune that he could play_

_Was 'over the hills and far away';_

_Over the hills and a great way off,_

_The wind shall blow my top-knot off._

The sing-song tones of the elven people within the Forbidden Forest rang loudly as they sang together in the trees. Their talans were built to withstand even the mightiest storms, the small homes made of strong wood nailed together tightly. Small lanterns that glowed with colors of green and red and blue hung from the branches above their heads, many elves dancing around the large fires on each different level. They sang in harmony, their voices ringing beautifully to all those that could hear.

_Tom with his pipe made such a noise,_

_That he pleased both the girls and the boys,_

_They all stopped to hear him play_

'_Over the hills and far away'._

Violins and flutes were played as several elves clapped in delight to the festivities. They all sang happily and with joy that could not be diminished.

_Tom with his pipe played with such skill_

_That those who heard him could never keep still;_

_As soon as he played they began to dance,_

_Even the pigs on their hind legs would after him prance._

Huor clapped along with his fellows, Lithin and Battre and Viv and Galadella and Celeduil sitting on branches and wooden chairs around him. They had his gifts from him on their laps, their smiles and laughter echoing throughout the woods.

_As Dolly was milking her cow one day,_

_Tom took his pipe and began to play;_

_So Dolly and the cow danced 'The Cheshire Round',_

_Till the pail was broken and the milk ran on the ground._

_Tom he was a piper's son,_

_He learned to play when he was young, _

_And all the tune that he could play_

_Was 'over the hills and far away'._

_Over the hills and a great way off,_

_The wind shall blow my top-knot off!_

The music quieted down as the tune ended, many of the dancers taking long breaths as they sat, smiles lighting up their faces. Elves can be very delightful, especially when they sing such nonsense with joyful intents. Of course, Huor knew this, sipping his wine and a grin sticking to his face like muggle glue. Finally, as everyone calmed down, Lithinduiel, king of the wood-elves stood, tapping his glass with his silver spoon. All eyes were on him, blues and greys and the occasional green shining under the light of the lanterns. The king cleared his throat.

"Hear me, my good people," he spoke, his voice ringing within the trees. "We have gathered in our yearly celebration of good tidings during this new _rhîw_ season." Many callings of agreement were heard, glasses being raised. As the noise died down, Lithin continued, delight in his eyes. "Yes, a wonderful time this is to feast and be merry!" And with this sentence, the elvish king began to laugh out a tune with his soft-spoken voice so much like his father's.

_O! Daylight's a wasting!_

_Open the casings!_

_Fine wine to be drank,_

_Now let me be frank,_

_To fly would be folly,_

_To stay would be jolly_

_And listen and hark_

_Till end of the dark_

_To this tune!_

Many elven servants filled empty glasses, Lithin once more taking his seat. Once more, the merriment continued, on and on into the night.

Much later, as the wine ran dry and the wind grew ever more colder in the night, Battre stood, the red jewel of his circlet shining dimly in the pale light of the lanterns. He spoke loudly, his voice carrying to the elves further up in the trees. "I believe now is the time for a tale." He looked to Huor, who sat contently beside him. "Come now, old friend," he said, grinning. "Give us a tale to take to bed! A tale of battles won and lost so long ago!"

"What sort of tale do you wish to hear? I know many tales, of sadness and happiness, of loss and gain," the elven professor replied, his eyes almost glowing with delight of a story. "Come, give us a tale," cried the elves with excitement. "I feel for a tale of tragedy, a tale of happiness lost in an instant," said Viv, whose reserved nature reminding many of the elves of her father, yet her voice, strong and determined, clearly was of her mother.

Huor raised an eyebrow. Celeduil, who sat beside Viv, peered at her curiously. "Why a tale of tragedy, melleth nin," he asked, tilting his head. "I want to hear of a tale that we are to learn from," she replied, looking to her companion under light blond (like her father's) bangs. Celeduil blinked, thinking, before nodding in agreement, his warrior braids holding his long silver blond hair from falling into his eyes.

Huor grinned, standing from his seat, Battre taking his seat once more. Huor walked to the middle of the large circle, elves looking on. "Very well, a tale of tragedy! T'is a sad tale, one that I have not told, yet many might know." The others began to whisper. A tale that they did not know? What could it be?

Clearing his throat, Huor began his tale.

"Many millennia ago, when the realm of Lorien was still beautiful and the Lady of Light still dwelled within, a battle was fought on a stormy night. This battle had many names, for it was fought with only a small amount of cavalry. The Men of Rohan called it The Battle of Helm's Deep. Here, possibly more than ten-thousand orcs rode to take the impenetrable caverns and slaughter all those within." Many elves gasped with excitement, for they had all heard of this battle in one way shape or form. Huor continued with his tale.

"In this battle, there had fought the Men of Rohan. However, in this battle, there were also members of Lord Elrond's Fellowship; Gimli son of Gloin, Valariella daughter of Visetril, Legolas son of Thranduil, and Aragorn son of Arathorn. It was a battle that they did not hope to win." "What about the elves," asked Galadella, her grey eyes staring up at him. Huor smiled. "Yes, we cannot forget the elves. Elves from Imladris, Lorien, and many other places gathered and marched to Helm's Deep, led by the March -warden of Lorien, Haldir," he shot a look to Galadella and Celeduil, who both perked up at the mention of their father, "and his second in command, Thanion."

"Now, before I continue," a collective groan was heard amongst them all. He chuckled. "Thanion was the younger brother of Caran, who married Haldir. He was a strong elf, with white blond hair. He was a warrior through and through. He also gave tremendous speeches, and if I were to say one, I would not do him justice. However, Thanion fell at Helm's Deep. And it is because he fell, that his bondmate soon followed." Gasps were heard. Thanion son of Imirt, had a bondmate?

"Indeed," Huor said, his smile turning sad. "Mithdel of Imladris, councillor of Elrond, died soon after that very day, as Thanion fell." "What happened," Lithin asked, his blue eyes blinking away tears. His parents had spoken of Thanion and Mithdel, since they had been good friends of them both. Huor looked up into the night sky. The sad tale told of a brave warrior and his bondmate, how the two males died at that battle. It told of how they met on The Hunt, how Thanion, the hunter, chased his prey, Mithdel, through the woods of Imladris under the glow of the full moon. It told of how they loved each other dearly after that and of how it led to their downfalls.

* * *

_The rain was pouring terribly, the sounds of sword against sword, metal against metal, and cries of pain echoing through the courtyard and atop the stone wall that stood strong. Thanion could feel his limbs tiring (for even elves grew weary after so long) as he continued to fight, his bow long forgotten, his black helmet knocked off his head and crushed under the boot of one of the ugly creatures. His hair whipped about in the wind, the rain blowing around in all directions and obscuring his vision. _

_He slashed at the nearest orc, neatly cutting the next one's throat as it approached. He blocked an incoming sword before slicing off the beast's arm and quickly cutting off the orc's head. On and on this pattern continued. He lost sight of Haldir and Orophir and Rumil long before, no doubt on the stone wall. Many of his fellow elves littered the ground all around his feet. He swallowed painfully, closing his eyes as he cut another orc down. _

_What was that on the wind? He could hear the sound of a voice calling to him from afar. Retreat? Aragorn was calling retreat? Yes, he knew the sound of the retreat signal. Thanion looked up onto the wall, spotting Haldir, his March-warden, his best friend. "Haldir! We must return to the Keep," he called, slaying yet another orc in his way. He ran up the steps leading to his friend, who had nodded, echoing the order to the rest of their forces. _

_Suddenly, he saw the blade glinting behind his friend. He cried a loud battle cry, stepping around Haldir and slicing off the orc's head. Haldir had been injured, a deep gash to the side of his body. Thanion helped him up, guiding the other down the stairs and to the Keep. He spotted Orophir, who noticed him as well, and quickly passed Haldir to his brother despite his protests. And just like that, Thanion leapt into the fray once more._

_He continued on like that, hacking and slashing in an almost blind fury, an almost mechanical defense before finally, it all just…. Stopped. He gasped in surprise, the orc above him laughing as he pulled his sword out from his stomach. He heard Aragorn's cry of rage and he heard Valariella's cry of despair, for they both knew what this death meant, but he didn't register what had occurred. His body refused to accept his death, so, he kept fighting. He slaughtered the orc that stabbed him mercilessly, turning to the next and the next. _

_Then finally, he was pushed to the ground, a clawed foot on his chest, holding him down as he bled from the wound in his stomach. He could make out the sound of Aragorn's shouts from afar, but he paid no attention. All he knew was the orc above him holding a mace above its head. It gave a feral grin, bringing the mace down upon Thanion's face, completely smashing the entire right side. Only the left side remained. The orc would have destroyed that too if not for Legolas, who's aim was true once more, hitting the creature in the head. Once Aragorn reached him, Thanion had already passed to the Halls of Mandos to await his beloved, with only the left of his face and the scar over that eye identifying him. His eye was wide, the greenish blue orb glazed over. His blood was everywhere, his hair being stained by the red color as it bled without end. Aragorn closed his eyes in horror, turning away and running in a blind rage back into the battle._

* * *

_Far, far away from the battle, in the beautiful land of Imladris, Mithdel walked alongside his friend and fellow councillor, Erestor. The two joked and laughed at the sight of many clouds above them, covering the ever darkening sky. They weren't entirely aware of what was happening in the land of Rohan. Suddenly, a crack of the lightning flashed in the sky, causing both elves to jump in surprise, rain beginning to pour from the thundering clouds above. _

"_A right storm it appears," mumbled Mithdel, nervously playing with his sleeve as he watched the water hit the gardens below. "It sure seems that way, with no mistake," Erestor replied, leaning on the stone ledge and looking down to the gardens below. Many of the elves who had been in the gardens now fled back into the castle, laughing as they became soaked to the bone. Mithdel could feel the rain on his fingertips as he raised his hand out of the window, cold and clammy. _

_Suddenly, he felt as if something grabbed his heart, a cold hand with claws digging into the small object, and gasping, Mithdel put a hand on the ledge of the window, breathing heavily, his other hand clutching to his chest. "Mithdel, are you well," Erestor asked, a look of concern on his face. "I-I'm fine," Mithdel replied, clenching his teeth as the grip on his heart grew tighter. "No, you are not fine," Erestor replied, grabbing onto his robes. "I'm taking you to see Lord Elrond." With that said, Erestor helped Mithdel as he leaned on his shoulder. Not even as they marched up the stairs with many onlookers, did they falter. Not until Mithdel gave a pained cry, the grip on his chest tightening and he lost his balance, almost slipping from Erestor's arms. "Mithdel!" Erestor managed to catch him just before he hit the floor, lowering him till he was lying face down on the cold tile, his friend's green eyes staring to him with a pained glance. _

_Erestor looked around, his eyes narrowing. "Someone," he called, gesturing to the dark haired elf who fell before him. "Call Lord Elrond! Quickly!" Someone did indeed run to get the elven lord, quickly returning to Erestor turning Mithdel over onto his back. His friend was breathing heavily, sweat leaking down his brow, his eyes wide open as he stared unseeingly at the stone ceiling. "What has happened," Elrond asked, coming to sit by his councillor's side, bringing a hand to his forehead. Erestor explained what happened, how Mithdel was completely fine one moment, then the next, like this. Elrond frowned sadly, his hand closing around Mithdel's. The other elf unconsciously gripped it with all his might._

"_I do not think there is anything I can do," Elrond said softly, "for what is happening to him, is happening to his bondmate far away." Erestor looked at him worriedly. "Will he live?" Elrond shook his head. "I am not sure." Something that is good to know, is that Mithdel was thrown into a world of swords and loud cries, of thundering and relentless rain, and of death. He saw this world through his bondmate's eyes. He saw him fight, he could feel him growing weary, his movements becoming slower. All Mithdel wanted to do was gather the younger elf up in his arms as if he were a child and just hold him close, waiting for him to become better. That is, until Thanion was stabbed. _

_Mithdel felt the wound almost as if it had happened to himself, and he cried out. Elrond and Erestor managed to transport him to one of the spare guest's rooms with the help of the lord's sons, Elladan and Elrohir, and they heard him. The two rushed to his side, Elrond placing a wet cloth on his councillor's forehead and Erestor holding his friend's hand. Mithdel couldn't feel his tears as they started to run down his cheeks, and he couldn't feel Elrond's comforting arms around him as he attempted to run to his beloved if only to see his face once more. However, to his wonder, Thanion still fought, much slower than before, and without the grace he had once used. This wonder was short lived when his beloved was shoved to the ground. All he saw was the mace raised and white light before he was back in Imladris, staring up into Elrond's concerned eyes. _

_The lord could already see the light Mithdel once had flickering and dying as he softly spoke, shocking the two into silence. "Is it the Valar's idea of a joke to throw our lives away to protect man? How many must die before they are satisfied?" He stared at them before turning his head away, looking at the wall blankly. He didn't understand this feeling of loss and depression, this feeling of being un-whole, like a part of him was missing. He didn't understand it, and it frightened him. _

_Only two days later, Mithdel died, breathing his last breath as he stared up into the accusing (at least to him) eyes of the Valar. However, a part of him still felt, and a feeling of peace came over him for he would see his beloved once more within Mandos' Halls._

* * *

The elves of the forest could feel the tears on their faces, the feeling of a bittersweet end making them feel happier about the fate the two suffered. Huor sat back down in his chair, leaning back. Finally, Celeduil spoke, his voice quiet. "Naneth and Ada never talked about uncle Thanion, no matter how many times I asked. Now, I know why. They were consumed with grief, and for that, they left for Valinor with Lord Celeborn." The young elf blinked away his tears, rubbing his eyes with his forearm. Viv placed a hand on his shoulder, leaning her head to touch his comfortingly. He quietly thanked her.

Galadella didn't say anything, simply leaning on Battre, weeping silently. Huor knew that such a tale was not meant for this season, for Christmas was meant to be a happy occasion. Therefore, he spoke softly. "I apologize for the sad tales, yet this evening should end on a lighter note." So, Huor pulled out _The History of the Elves: Astonishing Truths_. Flipping to a random page, he began to read. And soon, they went to bed with the ridiculous thoughts of 'How could they think that?' and 'Where did they get their information from? Most certainly from the wrong person!'

* * *

"_**Rhîw" **_**is the Sindarin word for "winter". Other seasons include "**_**ethuil", "laer", "iavas", "firith", **_**and **_**"echuir"**_**; "Spring", "Summer", "Autumn", "Fading", and "Stirring" respectively. **

**Yes, Huor was in Slytherin. Slytherin values ambition, cunning, resourcefulness, determination, and cleverness. Huor had several of these qualities. In addition, he tends to favor elves above humans, which I believe could be considered as "blood-purity", except in a different way. Also, Slytherin is my favorite house, and since nobody reviewed about which house they would like, I'm going with Slytherin. Though, it was still a bit of a tough choice. **

**I decided to use the old nursery rhyme Tom, Tom, the Piper's Son because it had a rather nice ring to it. It also seemed to fit the occasion well, since they were dancing and singing to the tune. **

**King Lithin's laughter was actually from The Hobbit, yet a more condensed version of the poem the elves sang when Bilbo and co. first arrived in Rivendell. I do not own, yet I thought it actually fit rather well.**

**I have several characters for LOTR: Valariella, who fell for Legolas, Caran, who fell for Haldir, and Thanion and Mithdel, who fell for each other. Valariella had Lithinduiel, Battresinduil, and Vivrendella, while Caran had Galadella and Celeduil. **

**The term 'Melleth nin' means 'Friend' in elvish. **

**Hope you enjoyed this chapter as much as I enjoyed writing it! I might not be able to update as quickly over the next couple of days though. My laptop just can't seem to connect to the Internet. *Shrugs* No idea, but it better be fixed soon. I need to look up some stuff for science (culminating, aka work that will affect my report card, urgh!) and I really wish I could look up pictures of Legolas and just….. You know, stare. Creepy? Well I suppose that's your problem, not much I can do about it. Anyway, thanks for reading! **


	5. The Forbidden Forest

**Disclaimer: **_**I do not own Harry Potter or Lord of the Rings.**_

**A/N: **_**I apologize for not updating in a while, what with exams and the fact that has been having a few problems. I hope this chapter is long enough to satisfy any burning need to read this next chapter. Also, I'd like to say that this won't be the last time that Harry and others meet the elves. One more thing: if this chapter seems a bit different from the last one, it is because I had just finished reading The Hobbit and I still had the dialogue stuck in my head. Now though, not so much. So I doubt it will hold the same vibe as it did in the last chapter.**_

* * *

As the holidays came to a close, Huor noticed that ever since the students returned, Harry, Ron, and Hermione were acting rather suspicious. Of course, they were acting suspicious before the break started, but now it was more easy to see. However now, they seemed to completely ignore whatever else was around them, too focused on whatever it was they were doing. They never made it too obvious though. At least, not to the other students. Then things turned for the worst. Gryffindor lost 150 points.

* * *

"What? But, why," Huor asked, his eyes wide as he stared to Sprout and then to Flitwick. The Herbology professor eagerly leaned forward. "Apparently, Filch caught Mr. Potter, Mr. Longbottom, and Miss Granger at the Astronomy tower last night. They lost 50 points each." At this revelation, Huor gave a low whistle. "That was my reaction," Flitwick said, nodding. "I expected better from those children." "As did I," Sprout replied. "What about Mr. Malfoy? You said he had detention also," Huor asked. Sprout nodded. "Mr. Malfoy may have been the one to catch them, however, he was still out after hours." He nodded, thoughtfully. It made sense. Quietly excusing himself, Huor strode out of the Great Hall.

His heels clacked against floor as he made his way to his classroom. Huor walked in through the door and closed it just as the bell rang. The class quieted down as he made his way to the front of the class. Huor picked up the chalk, beginning to write on the blackboard. Once done, Huor turned to his first-year class. "Do it. Finish it by tomorrow," he said, gesturing to the questions on the board. The students groaned, pulling out their textbooks. Usually, Huor never assigned homework. But even a practical class such as his needs to have some theory.

Huor sat down at his desk, pulling out _Ohtar Alqua_ and a white cloth. Slowly, he cleaned the blade, glancing to the students from under his eyelashes every few seconds. Finally, when he finished, he put the elvish sword onto the table and glanced out the window. The sun was high in the sky shining over the lake below. The Forbidden Forest, however, didn't seem to let any of the light shine through. In the shadows, Huor could faintly see the outlines of centaurs within the forest. They seemed restless. Huor frowned. Something was wrong.

_I think I might check with Hagrid if everything is alright_, he thought. Finally, he looked up into the sky once again to the sun. Almost time for the bell to ring. "Alright, you can go early," he said softly, his gaze still looking out the window. The first-years stood up from their seats. He could hear their footsteps as they left the classroom. There was a loud silence as he sat staring out the window. Huor began to tap his fingers on his deak. As the students' footsteps faded, they were replaced by the clacking of a woman's heels. He looked up as McGonagall entered the room.

"Professor Séregon, a word?" He stood, rolling his shoulders. "Yes Minerva? What is it?" His next class made their way into his classroom as McGonagall spoke with him quietly. Once finished, Huor nodded, sadly. She left just as the last students came in. Pulling out his wand, Huor shut the windows, shrouding the room in the darkness. "Alright then," he said, activating the projector at the back of the room. "Let's begin, shall we?"

* * *

The night was only illuminated by the moon and the stars in the sky as Huor sat on a single branch. He looked up to the night sky with a peaceful passiveness as he listened to the soft voice of the tree he was now sitting in. All trees have voices, yet some are more louder than others. The elves had taught the trees of Middle-Earth to talk a very long time ago, yet that time was long past. The tree he now sat in was one of the few that still felt it right to speak their minds. It spoke of the shadows in the forest growing larger, almost as dark as Greenwood had once been. There was something in there hunting unicorns. Huor was greatly saddened by this revelation that McGonagall gave him when his first-year class finished.

Hagrid had informed McGonagall of this, and she told Huor. She also informed him that she was hoping that sending Harry, Hermione, Neville, and Draco with them would teach them some discipline. So when Huor saw Filch making his way towards Hagrid's hut with the students in tow, he frowned. _That man is scaring them more then he should_, he thought, shaking his head. Hagrid and his lantern met the group as they stopped outside his hut, speaking to them and handing Draco and Hermione two more lanterns. Huor climbed down the tree, landing on the grass-covered floor.

The group approached, Filch heading back to the castle and Hagrid now at the head of the group. "Professor," the half-giant greeted, inclining his head. "Hagrid," Huor replied. He nodded to the students behind him. "Do they know what we're doing?" "Filch said we're going into the forest," Hermione said nervously. "That's right. This way," he said, nodding and gesturing for them to follow. He heard their footsteps behind him as he led them a little ways into the dark trees. Hagrid held his lantern and shined the light onto the forest floor around them. All around them was the silvery blood of a unicorn. Huor stiffened, kneeling down and dipping his fingers into the liquid. He felt sick. Elves never liked killing innocent creatures, and unicorns were the exact definition of innocent. They were so innocent and beautiful that killing one could get you stuck in Azkaban for life.

"Look there," Hagrid said, gesturing with his free hand, "see that stuff shinin' on the ground? Silvery stuff? That's unicorn blood. There's a unicorn in there bin hurt badly by summat. This is the second time in a week. I found one dead last Wednesday. We're gonna try an' find the poor thing. We might have ter put it out of its misery." "And what if whatever hurt the unicorn finds us first," asked Draco. Huor fingered the silvery liquid, gritting his teeth angrily. "If it does, I won't hesitate in gutting it to pieces," he muttered. The group looked over to him. Huor stood, turning to look at them, wiping the blood on his finger onto a handkerchief he pulled from his pocket.

"There's nothin' that lives in the Forest that'll hurt yeh if yer with me or Fang," said Hagrid. "An' keep ter the path. Right, now, we're gonna split inter three parties an' follow the trail in diff'rent directions. There's blood all over the place, it must've bin staggerin' around since last night at least." "Two parties," Huor said, "I move faster by myself." "All right then, two parties," Hagrid replied. Draco looked at the dog. "I want Fang," he said quickly. If the situation was less serious, Huor would have smiled in amusement. "All right, but I warn yeh, he's a coward," said Hagrid. As Hagrid chose the groups, the elf looked up into the trees. With his elven eyes, Huor could make out a foot-like shape sticking out ever so slightly from behind a trunk. At this, his lips twitched upwards.

"We are being watched," he said, eyeing the foot. It slid behind the tree quickly, the soft _whoosh_ of a breeze coming through the branches above. The group looked at him. "Can yeh tell who it is," asked Hagrid. Huor didn't need to. One of their watchers was leaning on a nearby tree. "_Man ceril_?" "_Av-'osto_ Celeduil," Huor replied, raising his hands. "We only wish to find an injured unicorn."

Celeduil stepped into the light of Hagrid's lantern. His blond hair shone silver in the faint light. He had his father's blue eyes and he wore a light cloth set of grey and brown to blend in with the trees. A large grey tarp covered his shoulders and his hair was pulled back in the traditional elvish warrior braids. He had on his belt, his new sword within its sheath and on his back was a bow and a quiver full of arrows.

"An injured unicorn? We found one dead last _Orithil_," Celeduil replied, his eyes shining with sadness. Huor looked down, gesturing to the blood on the forest floor. "This is more recent than _Orithil_. I would say maybe _Ormenel_, at the latest." The other elf slowly nodded, bringing a hand to his chin in a thinking position. "Very well then," he finally replied, looking to Hagrid. "We will watch over you and the ellyn on this dark night. Just in case." Hagrid grinned. "Thank you, Celeduil. We really appreciate it."

Celeduil bowed, before gesturing for Huor to follow him. "_Tolo ar nin, mellon_." Huor nodded, looking to the eyes of his students and friend. "I will go with Celeduil. No doubt the elves on patrol have found something." Hagrid nodded to him. "All right then. If any of us finds the unicorn, we'll send up green sparks, right? An' if anyone gets in trouble, send up red sparks, an' we'll all come an' find yeh – so, be careful – let's go." Everyone nodded, heading in their assigned directions; Draco, Neville, and Fang in one direction, Harry, Hermione, and Hagrid in another, and Huor with the elves.

"Na lû e-govaned vîn," Huor called to the others before following Celeduil up the tree.

* * *

They spent what felt like mere minutes up in the trees, following the trail from up high rather than on the forest floor. Huor had kept up well, having left his heeled boots and cloak back in Hagrid's cabin. They could be rather inconvenient when running and jumping from tree to tree, as I'm sure you know. Celeduil had immediately given orders to the rest of the patrol; a large portion of the group would continue on with the patrol while one or two would follow the smaller groups of Draco, Neville, and Fang as well as Harry, Hermione, and Hagrid. Celeduil himself would be helping Huor search for the unicorn. Two eyes were better than one after all.

"This is where we found the unicorn last," Celeduil quietly whispered, stopping and gesturing to the clearing below them. "We made sure to give it a proper burial." Huor nodded, his eyes narrowing. He could make out sharp rocks with his elven eyes. If he ever found who did this, they were going to get it.

Suddenly, a red flash appeared out of the corner of his eye. Huor turned his head to look deeper into the forest, the sight of red sparks flashing nearby. "Celeduil," he called, jerking his head in that direction. The other elf looked over, frowning. "Trouble already? I never knew humans could be _so_ clumsy." An amused smirk appeared on the captain of the Wardens' face. Huor rolled his eyes. "_Ego, mibo orch_!" The two quickly burst into a run towards the source of the sparks, leaping from tree to tree. By the time they reached the source, they noticed the elf that followed Draco and Neville was not in the trees, but on the forest floor, his angry voice carrying.

The warden was clad in similar clothes to Celeduil, however, didn't wear a wool cloth around his neck. Instead, he wore a wool cape. In addition, this elven warrior didn't have a sword, but a small dagger attached to his hip plus the bow and quiver on his back. His hair was a golden blond, yet was covered in shadows under the dark of night. From where they stood among the trees, Huor could see the young elf's silver eyes glowing dangerously. Urúvion was one of the youngest amongst the elves of the Forbidden Forest, being born just after Valariella and Galadella. Huor didn't know too much about him, however Lithin seemed to be good friends with the ellyon.

"_Pe-channas_! Do you not realize that this is serious," the warden exclaimed angrily. "_Prestad_, Urúvion," asked Celeduil, dropping down from the tree, Huor following right after. "Captain! I did not know that you were close," Urúvion said, lowering his voice. This warden seemed to have a thick accent, for he still wasn't used to speaking the common tongue, or "English". Celeduil simply shook his head, coming to stand in front of the other elf. Huor went to Draco and Neville, the former attempting to appear innocent while the latter appeared scared out of his wits.

The captain and his subordinate began to speak in rapid elvish. Huor took the two students out of the way, Fang following him with his tail between his legs. "What happened," the elf asked. Neville glanced downwards to the forest floor. "M-Malfoy scared me professor," the young Gryffindor mumbled. "Only for a joke," Draco replied, the lantern that Hagrid had given him being held at his side. Sighing, Huor rubbed his temples with his fingers just as a loud rustle came from the bushes.

"Wha' happened," Hagrid asked, breathing heavily as he burst through the trees. Celeduil and Urúvion had both pulled out their weapons, Celeduil with his sword and Urúvion with his bow. They relaxed when they saw Hagrid before Huor got the half-giant's attention with a quick summary of the events that took place. Urúvion nodded in agreement. "That is more or less what happened," he said.

Hagrid gave a rather heavy sigh. He looked rather angry, but he kept it down. He took the two students and led them back through the way he came. "I'll take Neville with me an' send Harry with young Malfoy here. I guess you'll just keep searchin', will yeh?" "Very well my friend," Huor replied. Hagrid and the children disappeared into the trees, forcing the three elves to wait for them to return.

Soon, Draco and Harry returned with Fang. "Well Harry, this is where we leave you," Celeduil said to the boy. "Urúvion will be in the trees if you were to need him. _Galu_! Good luck!" With that said, Huor followed the other elf into the trees once more in search for the trail.

* * *

It was a few hours later as they continued their search when Huor and Celeduil heard an ear splitting scream. Their heads both turned to look at each other before bursting into a run to get to the scream's origin. Yet there was nothing there. Nothing except the unicorn dead's body. Its blood was splattered all over the forest floor. Both elves couldn't look away. "The poor thing," Celeduil said softly. They approached the body cautiously. Once right next to it, Huor kneeled down, pulling his sleeves back to examine the creature.

He shook his head. "Gone," he mumbled, gently stroking the blood-soaked mane of the once lively creature before them. "_Hiro hyn hîdh ab'wanath_," Celeduil prayed, bringing a hand to his chest and bowing his head. There was a sound in the bushes behind them as Hagrid and the children came into the clearing. Hagrid gave a soft sigh. "Yeh were right Harry," he said quietly. "I had hoped yeh were wrong but…." Celeduil watched the group with a sad tilt of his head. "Tell me, young ones," he asked, "Where is Urúvion? For I wish to speak with him."

"You do not need to ask them," Urúvion said, limping out of the bushes nearby. Celeduil's eyes flashed. "What did you see? You could have done something!" The captain's voice was dangerously low as he spoke. The warden flinched. "No, I could not," he replied, "For an evil creature of menace was there, drinking the fair creature's blood. The loud slurping sounds it made I could hear within the trees. And then it saw me and a pain that I have never felt before came over me. I had fallen from my perch and knew no more." Huor continued to stroke the mane of the unicorn. "Peace Celeduil," he said, sighing. "No more violence on this dark night."

With hesitance, Celeduil nodded. Then, the captain turned to Hagrid. "The elves will bury this creature of the forest. And our elven eyes will be ever watchful for this…. Monster that has been doing this! This, I promise you." The half-giant nodded sadly. "Professor Séregon," he said. "We need to get back to the castle." Huor nodded after a few moments before standing. His pants and gloved hands were soaked with the silver blood of the unicorn. He pulled out his wand, quickly saying a spell to get rid of the mess. "Then let us hurry," he said, unrolling his sleeves as he walked over to them.

"We will escort you back to the edge of the forest," said Celeduil. The children were tired, so they nodded wearily. Hagrid led them back to his hut, saying goodbye to the elves once they were there. "_Na lû e-govaned vîn_," Celeduil said, bringing a hand to his chest and bowing. _"N'i lû tôl,_" Huor replied, returning the gesture. The elves returned to the forest and Huor followed Hagrid into his hut to retrieve his cloak and boots. He put his cloak on and simply walked barefooted back to the castle with the students.

"Professor, are you alright," Hermione asked. He gave the bushy-haired girl a sad smile. "Elves simply are not accustomed to death, Miss Granger. Especially beautiful creatures such as the unicorns." She nodded. "So, will we still be having detentions?" Huor turned his head to look at Draco. "I will speak with Ms. McGonagall, and we'll see." He led the four students back to their house dormitories, Harry and Neville being quiet the entire trip.

The next day, he spoke with McGonagall. No more detentions, but they'll be watched from now on. Huor couldn't tell if that was a good thing or a bad thing. But he had a feeling that things were about to even more interesting than they already were.

* * *

"**Man ceril?" means 'What are you doing?' **

"**Av-'osto" means 'Do not be afraid.' **

"**Tolo ar nin, mellon" means 'Come with me, friend.' **

"**Na lû e-govaned vîn," means 'Until next we meet.' **

"**Ego, mibo orch!" means 'Go kiss an orc!' **

"**Pe-channas" means 'Idiot.' **

"**Prestad" means 'Is there trouble?'**

"**Urúvion" is the elvish translation of the name 'Aidan', which means 'fiery.' **

"**Galu" means 'Good luck.' **

"**Hiro hyn hîdh ab'wanath" means 'May they find peace after death.' A little trivia: It was also the prayer that Legolas said in the TT movie when they hadn't found Merry and Pippin. **

"**N'i lû tôl," means 'Until then.' Meant to be in response to "Na lû e-govaned vîn." **

_**Orithil**_** means "The Moons day". It is one of the six days in the elvish week. The others are **_**Orgilion (The Stars day)**_**, **_**Oranor (The Suns day)**_**, **_**Orgalahad (The Two Trees day)**_**, **_**Ormenel (The Heavens day)**_**, and **_**Orbelain or Rodyn (The Valar's day)**_**. **


	6. Ending of an Eventful Year

**Disclaimer: **_**I do not own LOTR or HP. Wish I did though.**_

**A/N: **_**Sorry for the lack of updates, been pretty busy with school. Exams are coming up soon and then it'll be summer and I'll have more time to update. Anyways, we're coming to the end of The Philosopher's Stone and will soon be moving on to The Chamber of Secrets. I've had some ideas for that one for quite some time. Hope you all enjoy this chapter. Kudos to Furionknight for reviewing every chapter, you're awesome. *Thumbs up***_

* * *

Exams had finally graced the halls of Hogwarts castle and not in a pleasant way. Huor impatiently tapped his foot on the marbled floor of the Great Hall, looking over the rows of different students in the fifth-year, scribbling onto the papers in front of them. He honestly couldn't care less about the theory, but Minerva can be downright scary at times. Even though she most certainly wasn't as old as he was (Which I'm sure that by now, we all know that Huor is very, very, very old.), Huor still found himself listening to her. In fact, now that he thought about it, most women were like that. That was rather unnerving.

It was rather hot in the hall, for it was _Laer_, more specifically _Nórui_, a thing that Huor noticed too quickly. The students were sweating bullets, the beads of water dripping down their necks and foreheads. Or was it from stress? Huor could never tell. In addition to the theory exams, his class would also perform practical exams, though it all depended on the year they were in. Fourth-years and higher would have practical exams with a weapon of their choice. Those under fourth year would just get the theory.

Finally, the bell rang and Huor bid for the fifth-years to hand in their exams. After the last student left the hall, Huor sighed and waved his wand, putting the pile into order alphabetically. Then, he picked it up, dodging around the students who were entering for their next exam. He believed that it was first-year History of Magic. He shook his head, snorting. The professor, Binns had been a student at Hogwarts, returning to teach the bloody class. Then he died, and never noticed. After that, it had rather lost the appeal Huor had for it. It was now a class with "And then" after every sentence.

He came to the stairs and began to climb. The small flight stopped turning so he could climb to the next and soon, he had reached his level. Huor gave the door a light kick and continued down the hall to his classroom, the only one on that level. Opening that door, Huor made his way to his desk and dropped the large stack of papers onto the wooden mahogany. He took a seat at his desk, bringing a hand and rubbing his forehead. It had been a rather long day. With a sigh, Huor stood from his seat and whipped out his wand. With only a wave, Huor sent the exams to mark themselves and left to go to dinner.

* * *

After dinner, Huor returned to his room just across the hall from his classroom. It was always locked, both with magic and with a chair knocked under the doorknob. The only way to get in was to use magic to move the chair. Of course, not many people knew that he had a chair under the doorknob as a precaution. Huor put the candle he had onto the bedside table, his wand next to it. He carefully pulled off his blazer and folded it neatly before placing it onto the bed. His diadem was carefully placed on the vanity nearby, the silver metal shining in the soft glow of the candle. His cloak hung from another chair in the green room. As he was beginning to unbutton his white dress shirt, he heard the rushed sound of footsteps coming up the stairs. He paused, his ears could hear the footsteps coming down the hallway. They stopped right outside his door and a hurried knock could be heard. Huor picked up the dagger he had under his pillow and carefully made his way to the door.

After removing the chair as silently as he could, Huor flung the door open after the count of three and quickly grabbed the intruder and held the man with the dagger to his neck. "S-S-Séregon," the man stuttered, "W-What?" "Oh, it's just you Quirinus," Huor said, chuckling nervously. He let go, tossing the dagger onto his desk. The elf turned back to look at the DADA professor, who looked like he regretted bothering him. "Is there something you needed?"

Quirrell nervously twiddled his thumbs together. Huor patiently waited, crossing his arms and leaned on the doorframe. "W-Well, I-I was w-w-wondering if I-I could b-borrow your book o-o-on v-v-vampires again. I-I think I-I know why n-none of them h-have come a-after me. I-I just want t-to make s-s-sure…." Huor sighed, shaking his head. "Alright, Quirinus. Follow me, it's in my classroom." He walked in front of the defense professor as he led the way into his classroom. He opened the door and made his way to the back room where he had a small library of elvish tomes. It didn't take that long, for he had memorised the location of each of his books over the many years.

Handing the defense professor the rather thick book (almost as thick as two copies of Hogwarts: A History placed right next to each other perfectly) and led the way out. "If you need any help with the translations, feel free to come by anytime," he said, looking to the man behind him. Quirrell nodded slowly, staring down at the book in his hands with no response. "When do you expect to be finished with it? I don't rather like that book missing from my shelf," he asked, stepping out into the hallway. Suddenly, a large weight smacked him hard in the head making him fall to the ground. His vision was being slowly eaten up by black before another smack to the head knocked him out.

"Oh, I think I'll be finished with it sooner than I thought," Quirrell spoke quietly, a tiny smile coming onto his face as he dropped the heavy tome onto the ground next to the elvish professor. With that said, the DADA professor made his way to the locked third corridor door.

* * *

"What about professor Séregon," Hermione asked quietly as the trio climbed the stairs. "Surely he would be able to hear if Snape managed to get past Fluffy." "Maybe we should check on him," Ron replied. The red head turned to look at Harry, who walked quietly before nodding. The trio made their way to the elven professor's hallway, intending to check if it was clear. As they opened the door, however, they were greeted by their teacher lying on the ground, a large lump on his head. Beside him was a rather heavy tome. "Merlin," Ron said in surprise. They stood in shock before quickly (yet quietly) making their way back to the stairs. "Looks like Snape made it here first," Harry said as they climbed up to the opposite corridor, "We have to stop him! He'll pay for this!"

* * *

The next thing that Huor could remember when he woke up was the bright, white ceiling of the Hospital wing. He groaned, bringing a hand to cover his eyes. He heard shuffling nearby, slowly sitting up from the bed. "Ah, I see you have woken up just in time," Dumbledore's voice said, the Headmaster taking a seat in the chair beside the bed. Huor smiled, rolling his eyes at the old wizard before looking around the room. The Hospital wing was just like how he remembered it before, only with the addition of an unconscious Harry Potter on the opposite side of the room.

He worriedly narrowed his eyes. "What happened? Is Mr. Potter alright," he asked. Dumbledore smiled kincly, placing a hand on Huor's shoulder. "Harry is fine. Just exhausted from his encounter with Voldemort." Huor frowned, turning to look at the elderly man. "Voldemort? What happened?" "I believe that that story is for another time," Dumbledore replied, smile still on his face. "Oh, yes before I forget." Dumbledore turned to his side and pulled out Huor's book on vampires. Handing the heavy tome to him, Huor frowned. Dumbledore's grin widened. "I suggest not giving that out to just anyone who asks," he said. "You never know what they plan on doing."

Huor still frowned. "I suppose you're right. But why? I always liked Quirinus, though really timid, he was rather good at all of the work he did." Dumbledore spent the next couple minutes explaining to him what had happened, though all of the details he did not know for Harry had yet to awaken.

* * *

Later the next day, Huor made his way to the end-of-term feast. He was rather excited, wearing his diadem on his head once more. He made his way to his seat at the professor's table, greeting students as he went. Most asked if he was alright, to which he chuckled and asked if they passed their exams. Most of the younger students didn't get the joke, but the Weasley twins did and they proudly stated that they did without getting too many marks taken. Finally reaching the table, he took his seat.

The entire hall was in the trademark green and silver colour scheme of Slytherin house, which Huor was proud to be grinning and giving Snape a friendly elbow jab as well as a wink. The Potions' professor simply rolled his eyes. Huor's own eyes travelled to the celebrating Slytherin house, picking out the first-years. Draco Malfoy waved to him, a triumphant smirk on his face whenever he turned to look at the Gryffindor table. The lions were sulking in their seats, upset that their rivals had bested them once more.

Suddenly, young Harry Potter walked in through the doors. The hall went quiet for but a moment before conversation started up again. He took a seat between Hermione and Ron, ignoring all of the stares. Huor smiled as he noticed the amount of students trying to take a peek at the Boy-Who-Lived. All of the nonsense died away when Dumbledore entered the room, taking his seat in the very middle of the long table. With a loud voice, the Headmaster spoke to the school.

"Another year gone! And I must trouble you with an old man's wheezing waffle before we sink our teeth into our delicious feast." The Headmaster was very cheerful, a large grin covering his entire face. "What a year it has been! Hopefully your heads are a little fuller than they once were. You have the whole summer ahead to get them all nice and empty before next year starts." Many of the students chuckled at this comment.

"Now as I understand it, the House Cup here needs awarding and the points stands thus: in fourth place, Gryffindor, with three hundred and twelve points; in third, Hufflepuff, with three hundred and fifty-two; Ravenclaw have four hundred and twenty-six and Slytherin, four hundred and seventy-two." A large amount of cheering and stamping came from the Slytherin table. Huor grinned, however could feel the 'but' coming.

"Yes, yes, well-done Slytherin," Dumbledore continued. "However, recent events must be taken into account." The room went deathly quiet. Huor noticed that the Slytherins' smiles faded ever so slightly. "Ahem, I have a few last minute points to dish out. Let me see. Yes…. First – to Mr. Ronald Weasley…" Huor looked over to the boy in question, his face turning a rather interesting colour of purple.

"… For the best-played game of chess Hogwarts has seen in many years, I award Gryffindor house fifty points." The Gryffindor table began to cheer. Percy Weasley's voice could be heard above the rest, "My brother, you know! My youngest brother! Got past McGonagall's giant chess set!" After many minutes, the hall grew silent once more.

"Second – to Miss Hermione Granger… for the use of coll logic in the face of fire, I award Gryffindor fifty points." The young muggle-born brought her hands to her face, her cheeks red. Huor could barely make out the tears of happiness streaming down her cheeks.

"Third—to Harry Potter …" The hall was quiet once more. "… For pure nerve and outstanding courage, I award Gryffindor sixty points." The cheers were deafening, Huor felt a proud smile coming onto his face, clapping. It had gotten rather loud and his smile soon turned to a wince. The lions were now tied with the snakes. Dumbledore raised a hand and waited. Once the noise had returned to silence, Dumbledore grinned even more.

"There are all kinds of courage," he said. "It takes a great deal of bravery to stand up to our enemies, but just as much to our friends. I therefore award ten points to Mr. Neville Longbottom." The Gryffindor table once more erupted into cheers, so loud that Huor had no doubt that the elves within the Forbidden Forest could have heard. Neville looked so shocked, disappearing under a swarm of people in congratulations. "Which means," Dumbledore called over the storm of applause, "we need a little change of decorum."

With a snap, green was changed to red and silver to gold. Huor clapped as well, the smile on his face slightly fixed, for his old house had lost. Snape was shaking hands with McGonagall, not looking too happy at the change of scenery.

* * *

Soon, Huor had finished with the marking of his exams and the students left just as quickly, as if the year was only a day. Huor sighed contently at his desk, leaning back in his chair. He had finished packing and would be returning to the forest very soon. _What an eventful year_, he thought. The next year would most definitely be as eventful as the first one. After all, Harry Potter had come into town.

* * *

_**Laer**_** means summer. Please refer back to one of the previous chapters for a list of seasons. **

_**Nórui**_** is June. The other months are **_**Nerwienien**_**(January), **_**Nenneth**_**(February), **_**Gwaeron**_**(March), **_**Gwirith**_**(April), **_**Lothron**_**(May), **_**Corfeth**_**(July), **_**Úrui**_**(August), **_**Ifonneth**_**(September), **_**Narbeleth**_**(October), **_**Hithui**_**(November), and **_**Girithron**_**(December). **


	7. First Year Bloopers

**Disclaimer: **_**I do not own Harry Potter or Lord of The Rings. **_

**A/N: **_**So, did anyone see the teaser trailer for The Hobbit: Desolation of Smaug? I did! I. Loved. It! *Squeal* And Legolas was so cute! I was talking to my friend about it actually. You know that red haired female elf that you see talking with Legolas? Well, I basically said that if they were, well, "more than friends", then I would grab my elvish prince and say "Back off bitch. He's mine." Anyway, on a lighter note, this chapter is going to be bloopers. Here's how it's going to work: I will be doing a bloopers section for each year, one after the year is complete. So, with that settled….**_

* * *

_Straight Through The Door_

"Hand-to-hand and weapons. There are a few other ways to defend oneself besides magic. It is a very primitive way, yet effective." He walked over to his desk, picking up Ohtar Alqua. Examining the well crafted elvish sword, Huor continued to speak. "Magic will not always be there to help you. There are ways to disarm a wizard or witch of their wand, whether it be a spell or melee. However," quickly turning, Huor raised his sword and flung it. The blade flew through the air like an arrow being shot from a bow.

It was completely silent in the classroom. Huor brought a hand to his head, chuckling sheepishly as McGonagall came inside with a peeved expression on her face. "Sorry, didn't mean to."

* * *

_Trollolololol… In the Dungeons_

Suddenly, the Great Hall's doors flew open with a bang, everyone in the room turning their heads in surprise to the disturbance. Professor Quirrell, the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor, ran into the room, singing. Yes boys and girls, singing.

"Thought you ought to know," he said softly once he finished, falling to the floor in a dead faint. The students stood from their tables, screaming at the horrible performance. Suddenly, Dumbledore stood from his seat. The rest of the teachers looked on in shock as he began to sing a muggle song known as the Trololo Song.

Once he finished, the room was dead silent. You could hear have heard a pin drop. "Ha-whut?" Huor blinked in confusion and disbelief as the off-stage crew began laughing.

* * *

_Elvish Wine (Or Rather The Aftermath of The Elvish Christmas Party) _

The room was dark and narrow, with no windows or lights anywhere to be found. Suddenly, a door on the far side of the room opened, the light streaming into the box. Huor entered the room, closing the door behind him, sighing. Pulling out his wand, the elf muttered a quiet "Lumos". A single ball of light came from the tip as he walked to stand in front of the camera on the table. The light illuminated his face. Huor looked worried.

"You're probably wondering why I look slightly….. well, not nice." He ran a hand through his hair, his usual braids undone and lost amongst the rest of his head. "I honestly blame it on the wine." Huor gave a laugh, shaking his head. "I know what you're thinking, wine did this to me? Crushed grapes knocked me down to this?" He gestured to his misshaped appearance. He sighed, both hands being placed on the table in front of him. He peered into the camera more clearly.

"I'm here to tell you something, children. Never. Ever. Try elven wine. Especially the kind that has been saved from the time of king Thranduil," Huor shuddered, staring down at the floor. He gave a shaky breath. "You don't even need to drink more than two glasses until everything gets blurry….."

With that said, our favorite elven professor fell to the floor, shaking.

* * *

_Elvish Balance (Or Surprising Lack Thereof)_

As Hagrid chose the groups, the elf looked up into the trees. With his elven eyes, Huor could make out a foot-like shape sticking out ever so slightly from behind a trunk. At this, his lips twitched upwards.

"We are being watched," he said, eyeing the foot. It slid behind the tree quickly, the soft _whoosh _of a breeze coming through the branches above. Suddenly, a soft cry was heard, followed by the sound of branches breaking and a _thud_ hit the forest floor. Slowly, Urúvion stood from the bushes on shaky legs, rubbing his head. The filming crew snickered when the elven warrior accidently tripped over a thick tree root.

"I don't get paid enough for this," he muttered, "This is not funny!"

* * *

**Note, I know this isn't as funny as I thought it would be….. But there's always next time! I have a few ideas for the next one. Any suggestions would be kind. **


	8. Second Year Begins

**Disclaimer: **_**Read the last couple chapters. Does it look like I own these two amazing works of art?**_

**A/N: **_**Another chapter. Anyway, nice to know people are still sticking with this story. I apologize for not updating for a while, my exams have officially started. I only have one more to go, so that's good news. Hope you all enjoy this chapter!**_

* * *

Huor sighed, running a hand through his hair as he looked out over the talans of the elves. Many elves were taking quiet strolls, gracefully making their ways to their destinations. Others were simply enjoying the scenery, the quiet bliss of the forest. Huor smiled, looking up higher into the trees to the talans above. He could see just about everything from his own little home, from the members of the border patrols returning or leaving from their scan of the edges of the forest to the ladies taking their tea. He could see Vivrendella, daughter of Valariella, with Celeduil, son of Haldir, sitting together on a branch several levels above him. They were laughing together, just basking in each other's presence. Huor's smile widened. Even after this many years, they haven't made their bond official yet.

He chuckled, looking down to the forest floor. Battresinduil was with Galadella, the two reading a book that Huor had taken from his personal library. It was one of the many elvish books that he kept safe in the back room of his class office. The two had already bonded, Galadella leaning on Battre as she read over his shoulder. Huor found that Viv and Celeduil should take a page out of these two's book.

The trees around him were many different shades of green and brown. They covered the forest floor with shadows, blocking out the burning sun above. The branches hid the talans from prying eyes, for if one were to try to look, they would not find anything. Huor taped his nails onto the wooden surface in front of him, the branch serving as the protective balcony to keep one from falling off. Elves did not need to worry for such trival things, however in recent times, they seemed to have more guest than normal. Guests that didn't have the grace and balance that the elves had been gifted with.

Once more he sighed. Huor had recently gotten word from Dumbledore of the new DADA, that is Defense against the Dark Arts, professor. A man named Gilderoy Lockhart. Huor remembered him. Like Quirrell (Huor closed his eyes sadly muttering "_Hiro hyn hîdh ab'waneth_") , the man used to be in Ravenclaw (He honestly didn't understand _how_ this was possible). Gilderoy also never really applied himself during his time at Hogwarts, dropping Huor's class as soon as he could. From what Flitwick said, Gilderoy also got many 'T's (Troll) on his exams. He had played Quidditch for a time, a Seeker, though not very good. The elf had a rather bad feeling about this man.

That being said, the year was going to start back up again in the span of only a few weeks. Huor never really kept track as elven time was slightly different from the common time. He did however know when school would start back up. With a sigh, Huor pushed off from the wooden balcony ledge, making his way back into his talan.

* * *

Huor groaned, hands rubbing his temples in frustration as Lockhart prattled on about some thing or another. The elf honestly couldn't care less. When the year started up once more, with Dumbledore introducing Lockhart to the rest of the school's population (Much to the delight of many of the females in the hall) and the sight of Harry Potter and Ron Weasley hiding behind the doorway of the Great Hall after not arriving with the rest of the older students, Huor could already feel pressure building up in his head. And it wasn't the pressure of exams or work. It was the pressure of Gilderoy Lockhart. The man hadn't shut up for a full twenty minutes, recalling the tale of his slaying of a vampire for the hundredth time already. Peering out of the corner of his eye, Huor could see professor Sinistra shaking her head in pity. He sighed, his head falling into his hands once more. Suddenly, loud yelling interrupted Lockhart, drawing all of the attention in the room to one Ronald Weasley. One Ronald Weasley who had just received a Howler.

"… STEALING THE CAR, I WOULD'T HAVE BEEN SURPRISED IF THEY'D EXPELLED YOU, YOU WAIT UNTIL I GET MY HANDS ON YOU, I DON'T SUPPOSE YOU STOPPED TO THINK WHAT YOUR FATHER AND I WENT THROUGH WHEN WE SAW IT HAD GONE…" Huor winced, bringing a hand to rub one ear. He had heard along the Hogwarts grapevine that Harry and Ron had arrived in a flying car, after apparently missing the train. Seems like Molly had some choice words for her youngest son. He almost pitied them. Almost.

"…LETTER FROM DUMBLEDORE LAST NIGHT, I THOUGHT THAT YOUR FATHER WOULD DIE OF SHAME, WE DIDN'T BRING YOU UP TO BEHAVE LIKE THIS, YOU AND HARRY COULD BOTH HAVE DIED…." Huor noticed that the poor Weasley had sunk low into his seat, his face and ears burning a deep shade of red. Still, mother Weasley raged, her voice ringing throughout the entire hall.

"… ABSOLUTELY DISGUSTED, YOUR FATHER IS FACING AN INQUIRY AT WORK, IT'S ENTIRELY YOUR FAULT AND IF YOU PUT ANOTHER TOE OUT OF LINE WE'LL BRING YOU STRAIGHT HOME." The entire hall continued in its silence as the red envelope burst into flames. The ashes fell into Ronald's lap, both him and Harry appearing quite shocked. Huor took this moment to disappear unnoticed out of the hall, quietly thanking his passive ability to walk silently and stealthy. When Lockhart turned to continue his tale, he noticed the elf gone.

* * *

A few hours later, Huor walked down the line of desks, passing all of the Gryffindor and Slytherin second years before turning on his heel and walking back to the front of the room. Once more he turned, facing his class. He grinned, clapping his hands slowly. "Welcome back students," he said, "I bet you're all very happy to return to the beautiful lake, scary forest, dreary dungeons, and the unending pages of homework." Several students quietly laughed while others grinned.

"Now," he continued, picking up the chalk. The Gryffindors were sitting on the left side of the room, the Slytherins on the right. "Let's see what you remember." He began to write several questions on the board, all concerning the different topics he mentioned the year before. As the students began answering the questions, Huor walked back over to his desk, picking up a book that Lockhart had given him at breakfast. Flipping through it, he scowled. The students noticed. Maybe it was because it had a smiling Gilderoy Lockhart on the front cover.

"Professor," Draco said, a smirk making its way onto his face, "I didn't know you were pining for the new Defense teacher as well." Many of the Slytherin males started laughing. The Gryffindors looked over from their side of the room angrily. Huor snorted, snapping the book shut. "Yes, of course Mr. Malfoy," he said sarcastically, "Have you seen his hair? Why, it's more fabulous then mine!" This encouraged the laughter of the students as they seemed to be unable to breathe. Many of the females glared at the hysterically laughing boys.

"That's not very nice," Hermione said, frowning. Huor rolled his eyes. "Ms. Granger," he drawled, "I suggest that you find someone else to idolize, because Gilderoy Lockhart isn't worthy of your attention. This goes for all the rest of you as well," he added, gesturing to many of the other females in the room that looked offended. "I am not saying that you should not listen to him, for he is a teacher. I am simply saying that you should judge him by your own merits and not by what's written in a book." With that said, Huor dropped the book onto the floor. With a flick of his wand, he set the offending piece of literature on fire and let it burn.

Just as the flames died and only ashes remained, a knock on the door was heard before it was flung open. The topic of their conversation strode into the room confidently, a blinding smile on his face. Harry Potter groaned, ducking his head and hoping to hide from Lockhart's gaze as he looked around the room. Huor's smile never deterred, though the Slytherins noticed his face had become fixed with the way his eyes narrowed.

"Ah, Huor! It's so good to see you again!" The Defense professor gave the elf a sudden hug. Huor looked at his students, a frown appearing on his face as he returned the gesture. "Gilderoy," he cheerfully said, "What are you doing here?" The smile that was on the other man's face seemed to widen at the warm greeting. "I simply wanted to see you again," he replied. "I also wanted to give you a bit of help, brush up on my ability with hand to hand combat." Huor blinked in surprise as the Defense professor told the students to move the desks to the sides of the room. They did so, the girls giggling in anticipation while the boys groaned. The Slytherin boys, however, sent each other knowing looks. Harry and Ron exchanged glances in confusion. They seemed to understand when they overheard Blaise Zabini whispering to Theodore Nott, "Professor Séregon is going to wipe the floor with that idiot! I just know it!" The two chuckled, shutting up when the girls shushed them.

Standing in the middle of the room, Huor and Lockhart faced each other. The elf rolled his eyes as the Defense professor boasted about his ability to fight hand-to-hand. "Why, I was one of the better students in my day," he was saying. Huor snorted quietly, once again rolling his eyes. "Says the one who dropped my class after his first year," he muttered. The students that heard him (mostly Slytherins that were standing closer to him) snickered, bringing their hands up to cover the large grins. Once the Defense professor finished talking, he began shaking out his arms. Lockhart handed one of the female students his wand, who fainted when he gave a cheerful smile. Huor had handed Draco his own wand, who grinned evilly, one that Huor returned in full.

The two circled around each other, both their eyes narrowed in mock ferocity (In Huor's case, real ferocity). The students were watching, most holding their breaths. Harry stood between Ron and Hermione, nervously trying to fade into the background, hoping to stay hidden from Lockhart. It was complete silence, you could have heard a pin drop. Then, Lockhart attacked.

The Defense professor ran forwards with a punch, roaring out a ridiculous battle cry. Huor ducked, grabbing the outstretched wrist. The elf moved his foot, flipping Lockhart above his head. The Defense professor landed on the ground with a thud. Huor stood up straight once more, backing up as Lockhart got himself off the floor. The Defense professor looked around the classroom to the many faces, grinning. Huor felt a scowl try to make its way onto his face.

"Well, that's what you're supposed to do," said Lockhart, "But the best lesson is to keep the element of- SURPRISE!" The man ran at Huor again. Huor could honestly say that the murderous look that appeared in Lockhart's eyes was real. He grinned, dodging out of the way. He continued to weave and duck from the man's attacks. As Lockhart got more frustrated, his punches became more faster. Huor dodged left, Lockhart going past him and almost slammed into a group of students. They had quickly moved out of the way, unfortunately exposing the side of a desk. Lockhart tripped, falling and smashing his forehead on the side of the desk, catching himself before he hit the ground.

"By the Valar! Are you alright," Huor asked. The Slytherin males snorted, noticing the mock caring tone that the elf used. Huor helped Lockhart up, taking the man's wand from the fainted girl's friend, guiding him to the door. "Maybe you should go and see Madam Pomfrey," he suggested, opening the door. "It looks like it's bleeding. I'll see you at dinner." With that, the elf helped the Defense professor to the stairs, closing the door and locking it before Lockhart could protest. He leaned on the door, sighing before making his way back to the classroom.

"Professor Lockhart has gone to get his forehead checked in the Infirmary. Hopefully he'll be fine by dinner," he said, giving a reassuring smile. Many of the males smirked, chuckling quietly to themselves as the females gave sighs of relief. They moved the desks back into their proper places before Huor dismissed them to their next classes. As he cleaned up the blood that was left on the ground from Lockhart's accident, Harry came up to him.

"Yes, Mr. Potter? Is there something you need," he asked, standing up and tucking the handkerchief back into his pocket. The boy gave a smile, looking down to the floor. "Thank you professor," he said. Huor gave a smile in return. "Anytime, Mr. Potter," he replied. "You better get to your next class." Draco gave him his wand back, sending a glare to Harry before he ran out of the room. Harry smiled once more, grabbing his bag and following Hermione and Ron out of the room.


	9. The Chamber of Secrets & Quidditch

**Disclaimer: **_**I don't own LOTR or HP.**_

**A/N: **_**YES! My exams are complete! Yes! Ahem, now with that out of the way, I would like to inform everyone that I will be gone from the world of Fanfiction from Sunday, June 30**__**th**__** to Sunday, July 7**__**th**__**. This is due to a much needed vacation, warm sunshine, and Pina Coladas. I won't tell you where I'm going, just that it'll have sandy beaches and sunshine. Hopefully I'll get a tan. *Winks***_

* * *

Lately, Huor had been waking up early. He wasn't entirely sure why, but he had a bad feeling that something was going to happen. It is normal for elves to wake up early, to watch the sun rise. However, Huor has taken to waking up later then what is considered "normal" for elves, approximately 6:00 am sharp so he can set up for classes. So, I suppose you can expect that Huor was grumpy and irritable most of the mornings nowadays. It didn't exactly help that the first class he had was the fourth-year Gryffindors and Hufflepuffs. He didn't want to deal with Fred and George this early in the morning.

So during that class, he impatiently waited for the students to sit down. Once they did, he finally began to speak.

"Listen," he began, walking past the rows of desks. "I don't want to deal with anything that is similar to the words "prank" or "joke", because honestly, I'm not in the mood for it today. So, anyone who thinks that jokes are an absolute _wonderful_ thing in the mornings, can leave right now." With that, he started the lesson. Not one peep came out of either of the Weasley twins, making his morning slightly better. Unfortunately, that feeling didn't last.

* * *

It was a free day for him today, not many after the start of term. After all, it was the weekend. He had decided to take a stroll throughout the grounds, let the beautiful morning air calm him of the troubles of the first week. In between Gilderoy Lockhart, regular classes, and the Quidditch season starting back up, life had become rather busy for Huor. At least more so than usual.

As he entered the pitch, Huor was confronted with the sight of both the Slytherin and Gryffindor Quidditch teams glaring daggers at each other. It had gotten rather silent between the two. Huor could see the Weasley twins being held back by Angelina Johnson and Katie Bell, looking livid. Ron Weasley was leaned over, Hermione Granger helping him to his feet. To the shock of everyone, a slug was choked up from Ron's throat. It landed on the ground with a splat. With that, the Slytherins burst into hysterics, Draco Malfoy at the front. He looked rather small compared to the larger men on the team. Huor made his way over to the groups, his temper rising to the surface of his exterior.

"_What_ is going on here?!" His eyes had narrowed into a glare, stopping in between the opposing Houses. He looked to the Slytherins on his right, then to the Gryffindors on his left. "Well," he asked, firmly crossing his arms. "Is anyone going to tell me, or am I going to have to dish out detentions?" Many of the students were quiet before Oliver Wood, the Gryffindor team captain, spoke. He explained how he had booked the pitch for Gryffindor's practice session and how the Slytherins came in.

"Then, when Granger pointed out that Harry didn't need to buy his way into the Gryffindor team," the Slytherins snorted at this, "Malfoy called her a Mudblood." The silence that reigned was very loud, many of the students were quietly watching Huor's expression. The elf in question felt anger bumbling up in his stomach as he brought a hand up to his face, rubbing his temples and giving a frustrated sigh. He didn't say anything, before gesturing to Ron.

"Get him to Hagrid," he said, "He should have a bucket." Hermione and Harry nodded, getting the young Weasley to his feet and hurrying to the hut in the distance. The Slytherin team sneered in their direction, whipping the expressions off of their faces when they saw Huor's expression. "I expected better from a Malfoy," Huor said, shaking his head, "50 points from Slytherin for that uncouth language, Mr. Malfoy." Draco looked shocked. Marcus Flint was more than livid. "But professor-!" "No 'buts', Mr. Flint!" Huor turned the full force of his glare to the Slytherin captain. "Do you want me to take another 50 points? No? I didn't think so." Huor turned back to Draco, who shrunk under his gaze. "I am well aware of how Lucius raised you. Blood purity does. Not. Mean. Anything. Not to me, and it shouldn't mean anything to you. Neither Gryffindor or Slytherin will be getting any time on the pitch today," he raised a hand to stop the protests.

"I don't care who needs to practice right now," Huor glared, successfully silencing everyone once more. "I have not had a good week and I don't want to deal with this. Back to the castle, all of you. Don't make me take off more points." He pointed back to the change rooms, both teams making their way, eyes on the ground. Many of the Slytherins glared, their gazes darting away when he returned their stares with one of his own.

Once he made sure that both teams had changed, he stayed a few feet behind them, making sure that they both made it to the castle. Once they all entered through the wooden doors, Huor looked back over the grounds towards Hagrid's hut at the sound of a shout. Lockhart was steadily climbing the stairs, his breathing heavy. Huor's eyes widened, quickly turning and ignoring Lockhart's call. "_Rhaich_," he muttered, the clinking of his heels echoing throughout the hallway. His passed some of the loitering students, their gazes following him as he made his way down the hall.

"Séregon! A word," McGonagall called as he turned down the Transfiguration hallway. He made his way over to her. "Yes Minerva? Is there something you needed?" The Deputy Headmistress had a stern expression on her face. "Is there a reason that the Slytherin Quidditch team came down this hallway, all rather angry? And is there a reason that Slytherin recently lost 50 points?" Huor huffed, ignoring the stares from the students as he followed McGonagall into her classroom. She called over a kettle of tea and cups, pouring the warm liquid into the fancy cups as Huor told her the tale.

The head of Gryffindor house decided that she would give Harry and Ron detention for attacking another student. She said that she would have a word with Snape regarding a punishment for Draco, something that Huor decided he would bring up to the Potions' master himself. The elf left, feeling slightly relieved.

* * *

The Halloween party of that year was almost as amazing as the year before. And the year before that, and the year before that, and the year before that. I believe you get the picture. Of course, there was always something different about each year, such as the tiny little goblins that were running around the hall in varying costumes. Likely Lockhart's work. Huor could honestly applaud the man to get the dirt on the proud creatures, knocking them down a size. It was actually quite humorous. Once the feast ended and everyone made their way out of the hall, Huor stood from his seat. However, with the far ranged hearing of the elves, Huor could hear the footsteps of the students pause, the sound of whispers taking its place. Huor made his way to the door after exchanging a glance with Dumbledore. Pushing through the students, most moving out of the way, Huor got to the front of the crowd. He paled, staring at the blood on the wall.

"By the Valar," he said quietly, his eyes wide. "Not again."

"What's going on here? What's going on?" Argus forced his way through the crowd, standing beside Huor. He looked up at the wall, his attention being drawn away to the thing hanging from the torch bracket. "My cat! My cat," he shrieked. "What's happened to Mrs. Norris?" Huor's gaze didn't move from the blood writing on the wall, even as Dumbledore appeared on the scene. He took the cat down from the wall, calling for Snape, McGonagall, Filch, as well as Harry, Ron, and Hermione to follow him. Lockhart followed, allowing the use of his office. Dumbledore finally called for Huor to follow as well.

It seemed that he was frozen to the spot, almost like the past. _Fifty years_, he thought. _Fifty years have_ _passed since then_. _Fifty years since the Chamber had been opened_. Dumbledore called him again. The students were staring, for he still didn't move. He gulped, continuing to ignore everyone around him. Finally, he spoke.

"The Chamber of Secrets has been opened," he said, his eyes passing over the words on the wall. "Enemies of the heir, BEWARE." It was complete silence. "_No dirweg_. Our words for beware." His voice was quiet, ringing in the hall. The students that could see his face could notice the almost horror-filled expression that had appeared on his face. In an instant, it disappeared and he turned and followed Dumbledore down the hallway, eyes trained on the ground. The door closed to Lockhart's office. Huor sat down in one of the chairs in the room, ignoring everyone else, putting his head in his hands, taking shaky breaths.

He continued to ignore everyone, even as they debated about whether Harry was guilty or not. "What is your opinion, Huor?" He didn't look up when Dumbledore spoke to him, aware of the eyes that became trained on him. He was silent, his shaky breathing stopping. "Mr. Potter is not guilty," he said, "He was not there fifty years ago. He was not there….. He couldn't have done it, it's not possible….. He was not there when the Chamber was opened the first time!" He heard a gasp, most likely from Lockhart, and the others were silent as if waiting for him to continue. But he dared not speak anymore, instead he stood, muttering a quick apology as he shut the door behind him.

Huor ran to his room, opening the door and slamming it behind him. He didn't bother propping the chair under the doorknob, throwing his wand onto the desk, followed by his cloak. He threw off his heels, plopping down onto the floor and leaning against the wall. His face was once more in his hands, the tears falling down as he sobbed quietly to himself.

* * *

The next day, Huor didn't show up to his first class. Many of the students that were part of his fifth-year Hand-to-hand combat class became worried and had immediately informed professor Lockhart, who was only a floor down. Of course, the fool took it upon himself to knock on the elven professor's room, receiving no response. After breaking open the door, and finding nothing that suggested that Huor had been there, he finally decided to take the advice of one of the students and they went in search of professor Dumbledore.

Once they reached his office, the Headmaster informed them that Huor is currently sipping tea up in his office. He was nowhere near calm after the scare that occurred the night before, just wanting to forget everything that happened. During the meal that night, Dumbledore informed the school population that Huor will not be teaching for the next couple days, due to stress. Since they couldn't find a replacement for the class from outside of the school, Dumbledore had also informed them that Lockhart will be taking over the position for the short period of time that Huor would be absent. The elven professor had not been present at the feast either.

* * *

When he had returned, Huor had smiled sadly and simply told them that he was visiting his people. They didn't bother asking any more, since he wasn't comfortable with the topic. His classes became rather interesting, as he started to play many games to test what they knew (Mostly in teams; House vs. House, Girls vs. Boys, Students born in the months of January to June vs. Students born in the months of July to December, etc.), making them completely forget about the attack on Mrs. Norris. Of course, things gave way to the most recent Quidditch match, Gryffindor vs. Slytherin.

* * *

Huor sat with the rest of the professors up in the teacher's box, nervously glancing around before focusing his attention on the game. Madam Hooch threw up the quaffle and the game was on! Most of Huor's concerns flew right out the window as he watched the game. In addition, it was also Draco's first game as Slytherin's new Seeker. He still didn't approve of his father's teachings (mainly the language), but he was willing to support a student. Of course, he believed that the young Malfoy would have been better as a Chaser. That was just his opinion though.

The match hadn't even really begun and problems seemed to already crop up. A bludger flew by, swerving around and went straight towards Harry, who dodged. One of the Weasley twins (he believed it was George) slammed the flying rock towards one of the Slytherins. But to his surprise, and to the surprise of all the viewers, it immediately swung back around, coming to attack the young Potter once more. It had started to rain, forcing many of the spectators to lean forwards in their seats to see.

Madam Hooch blew her whistle, signaling a time out. The teams came down to the ground, the bludger continuing to fly around as if it was possessed. Finally, after many minutes, the teams were up in the air once more. The bludger continued to attack Potter in particular, completely ignoring the other players, but now, Harry was actively searching for the Snitch while avoiding the attacking ball. It was when he stayed too still for too long when Huor leaned forwards worriedly when the bludger came and slammed into Harry's arm. Huor could hear the snap from where he was sitting. He winced. _That must have hurt_.

Suddenly, Harry flew towards Draco with rapid haste away from the bludger. Huor saw a flash of gold. It was the Snitch! He leaned forwards in his seat. Draco dodged out of the way, surprise on his face. Harry zoomed past, his fingers closing around the golden ball and winning the game for Gryffindor.

Huor stood quickly and made his way down to the field when the Boy-Who-Lived crashed into the ground. The rain pelted down on him and many of the spectators when they stepped onto the field. Huor slipped by everyone as they crowded around the star player. He could see Colin Creevey clicking away with his camera, as well as Lockhart hovering over Harry with his wand as if about to cast a spell. He stopped him, grabbing onto the DADA professor's sleeve.

"I'll handle this," he muttered, pushing past him and helping Harry to his feet. "Come now, Mr. Potter. Let's get you to the Hospital Wing." The boy looked very relieved. Hermione and Ron followed as best they could through the crowd, Lockhart's protests going ignored behind them.

* * *

"You could have let professor Lockhart handle it, professor Séregon," Hermione said as they climbed the stairs to the Hospital Wing. Huor scoffed. "I wouldn't trust Lockhart with anything, Miss Granger," he replied. "For all we know, he could have made Mr. Potter's bones disappear. He's done that before. The poor girl, couldn't go to her classes for the next week 'cause of the leg." He shook his head, sighing. "See Hermione," Ron said at the back of the group. "Even professor Séregon agrees that Lockhart is incapable of doing anything!" "Anyone can make a mistake," the girl replied, huffing. "Lockhart more than most people," Harry replied. "Remember when he unleashed Cornish pixies on us a few weeks ago?"

Huor snorted. "Cornish pixies? Really?" Both boys nodded. "He probably wanted us to be prepared for anything," Hermione replied. "Cornish pixies are only dangerous to those who disturb them, or insult them," Huor said matter-of-factly. "I can expect Lockhart to do both. He practically failed all of his classes when he attended here. I should know, I helped Dumbledore sort through the reports." Hermione didn't say anything else, simply huffing and continued to lead the way up the stairs.

* * *

_**Rhaich **_**means "curses". Used as an insult.**

_**No dirweg **_**means, just as Huor said, "beware". **


	10. The Longing & The Duelling Club

**Disclaimer: **_**I do not own Harry Potter or Lord of the Rings. **_

**A/N: **_**And, I'm BBBBBBBAAAAAAAAACCCCCCCCCCCKKKKKKKKKKK! Hello again everyone! Great to see you all! **_

_***Ahem* As fun as the trip was, despite me getting tons of mosquito bites and a few sun burns, I really missed my Wi-Fi connection. But it only took me a few hours to catch up with everything and I was able to browse at my leisure once more. Lately, I've been reading some rather interesting "Dark-Harry" fanfics as their called; "Harry placed in Slytherin", "Harry becoming friends with Draco when they first met", those kinds of stories. I don't mean to be offensive to some, but it can be rather difficult to find good ones. I personally prefer the two examples above, as opposed to "Harry turning Dark (Dark with a capital "D") after Sirius died" or "Harry finding out that Dumbledore is a lying and manipulative old coot". There are a lot of the latter examples, it's rather scary to be honest. **_

_**When I was eating with my family in the buffet for lunch, my brother gave me an Idea. This Idea was awesome, and I can't believe I never thought of it before. I don't know if it's been done before, and I apologize if I copied ANYTHING AT ALL. Please notify me if you find anything like it. I will probably post it a bit later this week, the first chapter at least. Then, we'll see what happens I guess. And yes, Idea has a capital "I". Just because it was THAT awesome. Kudos to my younger brother by five years for the great idea, he had me writing in the small black journal that I brought with me for the rest of the day. So, before I post it, I shall give you readers a small piece of my thoughts:**_

_**For one, professor Quirrell is NOT evil. **_

_**Instead of Sirius, Regulas Black will be the Godfather of the Boy-Who-Lived (I know that I'll be getting a TON of shit from this statement, but hey, how many stories do you have with Regulas Black having a speaking role and Sirius is only a passing mention? I've only read one.)**_

_**Our Boy-Who-Lived discovered the Chamber of Secrets in his first year.**_

_**He does NOT play Quidditch as a hobby, yet he knows how to play.**_

_**Hermione was put into Ravenclaw. I don't know of too many stories with this development, so I thought I would give it a shot.**_

_**Some of the pairings that are included in this story, or the ones that I will try to include, are (And I'm only going to give the initials of their names here, figure the rest out on your own!) DM/HG (My fav pairing, don't question it!), BZ/TN (Note: This one is NOT a fem-BZ. It is yaoi. If you don't like yaoi, then don't read.), TB/PP (These two actually make a really cute couple, if you can write PP right.), FW/AJ (Side pairing, not really that important.), GW/LL (Pure and utter CRACK. Don't like, don't read.), PW/OW (I actually read one such story when Harry and pals find out from Ginny about this couple. Apparently, she walked in on the two boys in a rather heated snogging session. Yes, this is ANOTHER yaoi pairing. Very cute, in my opinion.), RW/LB (Urgh, this one will be a pain to write, with me puking up slugs during the entire time.). There will be other pairings, though these are the ones that come off the top of my head.**_

_**The Boy-Who-Lived' subjects are in this order, with the grades of each following right behind: Potions, O, DADA, O, Charms, O, Transfiguration, E, Arthimacy, O, Astrology, E, Herbology, E. Our protagonist will be in Slytherin, so naturally Snape will be the preferred professor, with potions as the favorite class (Double-Potions with the Gryffindors = Gryff-bashing galore!) **_

_**Finally, concerning the Marauders: Messrs Moony, Wormtail, Longsnout, and Graze proudly present to you some of the Behind the Scenes work of this work-in-progress. **_

_**Now, with all that said and done, I believe you want to get onto the story, am I right?**_

* * *

Colin Creevey had been petrified. Huor had heard the news along the Hogwarts grapevine, from professor Sinistra who teaches Astrology no less. Much like the first attack, with Ms. Norris, Huor locked himself in his room and refused to come out for the next couple days. Then, he travelled into the forest. Yet, he never told anyone the real truth, not even Dumbledore about where his travels led. He didn't seek out the elves, though he passed by with the acknowledgment of Celeduil. He instead would travel to a place further in the forest, in a beautiful valley. The flowers that bloomed there were some of the most vibrant he had ever seen, with the varied colours reflecting in the glowing light of the sun, and would glow subtly in the nightly shine of the moon. The soft breeze would always flow past his ears, his silvery blond hair lightly lifting off his shoulders. He would sit down on the soft green grass, bringing his arms and wrapping them around his knees as he thought, staring out into the distance. But he wasn't staring at nothing, oh no, he was staring at a sight that would behold many if only they could _see_.

For the valley stretched a far distance before the rolling waves of the ocean rose high above the shore. During the day, Huor would sit with his eyes closed as he listened to the cry of the gulls as they flew overhead. The trees that had opened to this area made sure that many would not find him, for they knew that he only came here for peace. The Sea Longing was something that all elves feel, something that calls from inside them that wants to lead them to the sides of the Valar, to the sides of their loved ones. For across the sea lay the Undying Lands, blessed realm of the Valar that they created for the elves, for the land was Undying, much like the peoples it bore. But it was closed off from the elves here in fair Scotland, those who remained with their young king in loyalty unyielding until the day came when the ban would be lifted. Huor knew not when this would occur, not for many years yet, of this he knew. But the Valar could never stop the Longing.

This feeling only grew stronger in Huor when the threat returned, its haunting golden eyes preying on the young ones. He wanted to run, yet he also wanted to fight, to protect the students, for they could not protect themselves from such a creature. Huor knew not what it was, for all he could remember the last time was the _fear_, and the _panic_ that he felt as he stared in the mirror at the terror that stood menacingly behind him. Its midnight black scales shone in the paleness of the moon's light from the windows, its long form slithering, _twisting_ as it moved. But the thing that shined the brightest was its eyes. The glowing, golden eyes in the mirror. He had frozen, and he dared not move. For he could not, thus he was forced to stare for Valar knows how long at the deathly gaze of the creature. Sometimes, it would return in his dreams, those hauntingly deathly eyes, and he would wake in cold sweat, too afraid to return to sleep. The only thing that could help him was the Sea, and the Undying Lands.

But the children needed him here, and he dared not part from them, not yet. It was too soon, yet the Longing was a powerful force, driving him to go, to _sail_ on to the Lands of the Valar. The Longing burned in his eyes as he sighed sadly to himself, the sea rolling in crashing in the distance.

* * *

Soon enough, the Christmas break was coming closer. No more attacks had occurred during that time, though Huor knew that it would happen soon. He did not know when, but he did know how. And this thought frightened him more than anything. The gaze of that creature had killed poor Myrtle, petrifying many other muggle-borns. He didn't want to think of what would happen to another student if they were to suffer the same fate.

Huor also knew what else would happen soon, if from the news that had reached his ears were correct. His outburst in the hallway when Ms. Norris was found spread like wildfire, and soon enough, the students would start asking questions, if they weren't already. He just hadn't been around often during the year for them to get any straight answers. But soon enough, it was his second-year Gryffindor/Slytherin class that afternoon when it was brought up. He had just returned from the valley three days past.

A hand had gone into the air and Huor had called on the girl to ask what question she had. Instead, she asked about the Chamber of Secrets. Huor could remember giving a sad smile to her as he leaned on the edge of his desk.

"Before, a long time ago, Salazar Slytherin was said to have built a Chamber. And within it, a terrible monster," he recalled. His eyes became distant as he spoke softly, yet the class was in a complete silence, all classwork forgotten to hear his tale. "I am not really obligated to tell you this, as a Hogwarts staff member." There were groans of frustration, and he chuckled. "But as a friend, yes, the Chamber has been opened before." He quietly waited until the uproar died down before he continued. "Headmaster Dippet had wanted the matter covered up, for reasons that I am unaware of. But I do know that students were being called to return home, their parents frightful. Hogwarts was going to be shut down, so they said. But one day, a culprit was found. Hogwarts remained open, and the student they say was responsible was expelled."

He sighed, running a pale hand through his hair. "That is what I was told, at least." "What do you mean, professor? Were you not there?" Huor looked to Pansy Parkinson, the young witch looking to him confused and snobbish (Though he wouldn't say so out loud). "I was indisposed," he replied, "Enjoying the rather _charming_ sight of golden eyes in a mirror in my paralysis." This brought everyone out of whatever stupor they were in as they all started talking at once. Huor rubbed his forehead, sighing as the loud noise increased the migraine that he could feel forming. "I do not wish to talk of it," he said, his eyes still faraway and lost, "The feeling is…. Still too near." During the days after, word got out and the subject was dropped.

* * *

_It was dark, none of the light from the outside world reaching the inside. Huor couldn't tell where he was, even his elven eyes were no match for the darkness was thick and unyielding. He lit his wand, following the tiles of the dark hallway. The blackness he could only compare to Sauron's reign of terror, dark, cold, suffering, and pure hell. He did not know where he was going, for his feet moved of their own accord, the heels clicking and clacking loudly in the still silence. He was on edge, but he knew not why._

_As he continued down the hall, Huor could feel the sight of eyes upon his back. It sent shivers down his spine, urging him to walk faster. So he did. His steps increased in speed until he had burst into a full run. There was a sound behind him, as if something was giving chase. The Slytherin beat down the Gryffindor in his heart, the urge to flee winning over the logic of turning to see what was chasing him, even if only a mere glimpse. For he felt an almost death-like chill whenever he thought of turning to see the creature and attempting to fight. He turned the corner, the light of his wand illuminating enough of the area in front of him so he could see the floor and walls that surrounded him. His only hope of escaping was to make it outside, or at least to the higher levels of the castle. _

_The chase still continued, one flight after another Huor climbed, two steps at a time. Finally, he reached a door, pushing it open and started to slow. Elves had rather high stamina, for they could run for days without food or water or rest while still keeping the same speed. He walked, nervously looking from left to right, however something caught his eye._

_A mirror, on the far wall. Huor went close to it. It was dusty and old, from its appearance. He brought up a gloved hand, wiping some of the lingering particles from the smooth glass. And what he saw shocked him. A gigantic snake, black scales reflecting in the light of his wand stood behind him. He was amazed by the creature's beauty, as well as frightened. For its fangs were sharp and rather long when he gazed upon them in the mirror. Then his sight drifted to the eyes. And he froze. Deathly golden eyes stared back at him from the glass and he found that he couldn't pull his gaze away. _

_Golden eyes, cold and chilling. They showed his death, the grasping hands of the Underlord grabbing at his soul and pulling him down, down, down…._

* * *

Huor woke, his breath short and heavy as his chest heaved. He was sweating, his hair sticking to his face and shoulders. He brought his hands and saw that they were shaking violently. He crossed his legs, placing his head in his shaking hands as he shuddered and sobbed silently. After a few minutes, finally composing himself, Huor stood, quickly changing from the silk pajamas and into a black dress shirt and black tie, accompanied by matching pants. He then slipped on a pair of travelling boots (he preferred not to call them "winter boots". It seemed like a rather inappropriate name.) and grabbed a dark coat from his wardrobe. Then, after grabbing his wand and sword, he swiftly exited his room and into the dark hallway.

Turning down corridors, racing past the paintings silently so as not to wake anyone, Huor hurried out of the castle into the cold winter air. He slipped the coat on, even if he didn't really need it (elves were naturally resistant to extreme temperatures. Though, he wouldn't really be surprised that they had a bit of trouble with the snow). He practically ran into the forest, ignoring the sudden light turning on in Hagrid's hut as he passed. He quickly scaled a nearby tree, choosing to remain on the lower branches, and then proceeded to leap from branch to branch. The Longing had returned, just as the dream had, and Huor could feel the strong pull of the ocean tides break through his will and clutch at his mind and body. He wasn't thinking, it was just a _need_ to be near the sea, to at least watch and _crave_ for the peace he desired.

He made sure to go the long way, though it pained him. The acromantulas of the forest were rather territorial, though they stayed far enough from elven borders so that a war of some sort wouldn't break out. In addition, there were also the centaurs and vampires, neither which were fond of elves venturing in their land. His body moved on its own accord, the limbs mechanical as he continued through the woods on the familiar trail. He did not encounter any dark creatures, for that he was grateful, even if there were a few close calls.

At long last he reached the valley, the ice cold sea lapping at the shores. Ice drifted in mere patches here and there atop the freezing water. Huor went right to the edge, standing with his hands in his pockets as he stared out into the open sea. He dared not go further. He stood there for a rather long while, though he did not know how long. The sun had risen and set over the tree tops multiple times while he was there, simply gazing out into the clear depths. Finally, he gave a weary sigh before turning and making his way back to the castle. Huor focused entirely on the trip back, suppressing the urge to remain by the sea shore for longer than necessary, and returned to the castle a week after he left. No one asked, though many of the remaining students had curious gazes, for he walked right into the Great Hall just in time for breakfast, sitting at the head table after pulling off his coat as if nothing was the matter.

* * *

Huor sighed, rolling his eyes as Lockhart jabbered on about how he was definitely the right person for this job. The elf honestly didn't know why Dumbledore put up with the man's lies (for Huor has a rather high suspicion meter for an elf. He _was_ after all a Slytherin), he would have gotten rid of him by this point. Though the idea of a duelling club certainly peaked his interest, it was a rather important factor in the world for any witch of wizard, after all. The only problem he had was the incompetent teacher, because, let's face it, Lockhart was a fraud, and just about _anyone_ knew it.

Desperately, Huor sent a pleading look to Snape, the Potions master standing in the corner on the other side of the room, watching as the students filed in. The man returned the gaze with a raised eyebrow, the slight upturn of his lips indicating that he was rather amused at the elf's predicament. Scowling, Huor politely excused himself from the DADA professor's _nauseating_ presence and made his way to the door, greeting the rest of the students as they entered. Finally, once all the students had arrived, Lockhart stood on the stage that McGonagall had Filch get. His blinding smile flashed around the room.

"Gather round, gather round! Can you all see me? Can everyone hear me? Excellent!" The man clapped his hands together, Huor rolling his eyes. Draco, who was in the crowd of students, noticed this and snorted quietly. Huor sent a wink back in response before returning his attention to Lockhart.

"Now," the DADA professor continued, "Professor Dumbledore has granted me permission to start this little Duelling Club, (To which Huor then heard one of the Slytherin boys mutter, "No doubt with capital letters and all." He had brought a hand to his face, smirking and quietly muttering to himself, "25 points to Slytherin for amusing cheek against a teacher.") to train you all up in case you ever need to defend yourselves as I myself have done on countless occasions – for full details, see my published works."

Lockhart then swept his arms in the directions of Huor and Snape, his smile getting wider. "Let me introduce my assistants, Professor Snape and Professor Séregon. Professor Snape tells me that he knows a tiny bit about duelling himself and has sportingly agreed to help me with a short demonstration before we begin. Now, I don't want you youngsters to worry – you'll still have your Potions master when I'm through with him, never fear!" Huor sent a gleeful smirk to the hook-nosed man, who sent a rather nasty glare in return, his lip curling. The elf just winked, his own amusement glittering in his eyes.

"Professor Séregon will be helping with observation, to keep an eye on all you youngsters," the blond DADA professor continued, "He says that he's been in quite a few duels, which I don't find surprising! The long life of an elf can be full of adventure, after all!" At this, Huor frowned, raising an eyebrow. Some of the students looked at him, judging his reaction. Snape smirked, before brushing past the large group of students to stand on the stage, opposite Lockhart. They bowed to each other; Lockhart in a flurry of hand motions (which Huor inwardly snickered at) and Snape with a slight tilt of his head. They then raised their wands and holding them in front of them, assumed the customary duelling positions.

"As you can see," Lockhart said, "we are holding our wands in the accepted combative position." The crowd was silent. "On the count of three, we will fire our first spells. Neither of us will be aiming to kill though," Huor felt the tips of his lips twitch upwards at the quiet comments of the Slytherins. "One – two – three –," Huor called out with a loud, clear voice, startling some of the students. Both mentors brought their wands up and over their shoulders.

"_Expelliarmus_," Snape cried. The bright red light shot straight and true, like an arrow, hitting Lockhart dead on and blasting him off his feet. He flew through the air before hitting the floor with a loud crunch. Many of the Slytherins cheered, while most of the female population gasped in surprise and concern. Huor snorted, rolling his eyes, an action that didn't go unnoticed by Harry and his friends. He winked. Lockhart got back up to his feet, his hair messed up. Finally, after Huor managed to get the man back to the stage, the lesson continued.

"Well, there you have it! That was a Disarming Charm – as you can see I've lost my wand – ah, thank you Ms. Brown." The brunet gave the DADA professor his wand, squealing to her friend Parvati immediately afterwards. Huor felt a sneer coming onto his face. "Yes," Lockhart continued, "An excellent idea to show them that, Professor Snape, but if you don't mind my saying so, it was very obvious what you were about to do. If I had wanted to stop you, it would have been only too easy." Snape's glare was ten-folds the one previous. "However, I felt it instructive to let them see." Huor was having a rather hard time keeping a straight face this time, snickering behind his hand.

"Now, duelling is an art that takes many years to master," Lockhart said, completely oblivious to Snape's rage. "Your opponent is unlikely to give you a chance! So, Professor Séregon if you would," Huor raised an eyebrow, climbing onto the stage. _What was he planning_? "Your Potions professor and your Hand-to-Hand Combat professor will give a short example of an actual duel." Excited whispers rose from the crowd as Lockhart stepped off the stage. Huor and Snape shared a glance before shrugging and assuming their positions. Unlike Snape, whose legs were farther apart for balance, Huor stood naturally, his wand in his hand and pointed as if it was his sword that he had just drawn.

"Begin!" "_Stupefy_," Snape cried, striking quickly. Huor dodged out of the way, his heels clacking on the wooden stage. Some of the students that were rather close jumped back in surprise. "_Reducto_!" Snape blocked it before firing off a spell of his own. This dangerous battle of wills clashed in front of their students eyes as their professors battled in earnest. Even Lockhart couldn't tear his eyes away. It was a real wizarding duel, right in front of them.

"_Expelliarmus_!" "_Protego_, _Incarcerous_!" Snape dodged the ropes that were flung at him. "_Reducto_, _Stupefy_,_Tarantallegra_!" Huor rolled, dodging the first two spells and blocked the last one. "_Protego_, _Incendio_, _Impedimenta_!" "_Incarcerous_, _Stupefy_, _Petrificus_ _Totalus_!" The battle continued on for a few more minutes before Huor blocked Snape's _Incendio_ and hit him with _Impedimenta_. The Potions master flew off the stage, hitting the floor. The Slytherins winced while many of the other houses cheered. Huor hopped off the stage and offered a hand to Snape. He took it, the elf lifting him to his feet. "20 points to Slytherin for having a capable head of house," he whispered, just quietly enough to the Potions master while Lockhart bade that the students get to practicing. Snape gave a small smile, a slight upturn of his lips. It were moments like these that reminded him of the nighttime conversations with Huor that they would have during his school years. Sometimes, Huor could be a bit biased towards his old house, certainly helping when necessary, but never being obvious.

After the understanding had passed, the two began to put the students into groups of two so they could practice. Though, it didn't really go as planned. Open brawling had started immediately, he had spotted Hermione caught in a headlock by Millicent Bulstrode, a Slytherin not surprisingly. He got the larger girl off the smaller Gryffindor, sighing and shaking his head, not taking any points from Slytherin. This was probably because he silently admired the rather impressive bruise that had formed around Hermione's eye.

Finally, Lockhart decided to teach the children to block, causing Huor to roll his eyes, sighing, and crossing his arms, clearly not amused. He didn't say anything though, even though Lockhart sent him a worried look. Snape volunteered Draco and Harry to act as the scape goats. And unfortunately, the DADA professor agreed. Huor mentally face palmed. But there wasn't much he could do, the two were already getting up onto the stage. After Snape and Lockhart gave a few last minute tips, or in the blond man's case 'attempted', the duel began. However, Draco's choice of spell surprised them all.

"_Serpensortia_!" A long black snake fell onto the stage. Many screams filled the room as students desperately moved away from the creature, which hissed in anger. "Don't move Potter," Snape said lazily, drawing his wand. "I'll get rid of it." "Allow me!" Huor winced as Lockhart shouted, pulling out his own wand and a loud bang was heard, throwing the serpent into the air before it landed once more, hissing. More screams were heard. It slithered towards Justin Finch-Fletchley, who recoiled in fear. Its fangs were poised, ready to strike.

Suddenly, another hissing sound was heard, and everyone's eyes were on Harry Potter as he spoke. The hissing caused Huor's eyes to widen. _Mr. Potter is a Parseltongue? _It just didn't seem possible. Yet the snake listened to whatever the boy said, backing down immediately. Huor slowly moved forwards, the calls of some of the students being shocked. Once he was close enough, he kneeled down in front of the snake, who was poised to bite once more. Instead, Huor started speaking comforting words in the elvish tongue, his voice soft and the words flowing off his tongue like music. It calmed, letting him pet it before the snake slithered up his arm and deciding to settle on his shoulders, rubbing its cool head against the side of his face. He smiled, petting it before standing. By now, many of the students were watching Harry with an expression of shock. Huor slipped out of the room, saying that he'll bring the snake outside into the forest.

He didn't get very far though, turning the corner and making his way down the hallway before he lazily surveyed his surroundings. He passed a window, the cool glass showing his reflection. But what shocked him most wasn't him, or the snake around his shoulders. No, it was the golden eyes that he saw. He froze, his heart constricting in his chest and his breathing slowly stopped. The snake on his shoulder gave a sudden cry, as if far off, before falling from his shoulders and onto the floor at his feet. But he couldn't even look down to see why and soon, the darkness consumed him. Yet the golden eyes remained in his sight, its cold death gaze unwavering.

And he found that he really should have just stayed with the elves in the forest all those years ago.

* * *

_**Classic, am I right? Oh sorry, I was talking about the 'Main-Character-Falls-Unconscious-At-The-End-Of-Th e-Chapter' thing. So, how was it? Good? Really good? God awful? Please be honest! Have a good day everyone! I'll be back soon with that new story soon enough. **_


	11. Unexpected Visitors

**Disclaimer: **_**Read the past couple chapters, I don't feel like saying anything.**_

**A/N: **_**Hello! Hello, hello, hello! Been a while, huh? Sorry 'bout that, I've been feeling really lazy lately. Plus, I've been trying to exterminate the extra plot bunnies that keep popping into my head for other stories. Like the one I mentioned last chapter. I ran into a few snags for that one, so it might be awhile. Now, I'd like to thank 3 for reviewing, you are awesome! Well then, let's get on with this.**_

* * *

Dumbledore pushed through the crowd of students. There weren't that many, since the holidays had begun and many of the children had gone home. Finally reaching the front, he froze. Professor Séregon was standing by the window, his eyes wide in surprise and his mouth slightly agape. The snake at his feet was still, its own eyes wide and its body completely limp. However, the only difference between the two was that the tiny serpent's eyes were bleeding. The elven professor wasn't moving. He had been petrified. The headmaster turned his head to Filch, who had pushed his way to him.

"Argus," the twinkle in his eyes had vanished, "Go and inform king Lithinduiel of what happened. No doubt that he would like to see this for himself." The caretaker nodded before pushing his way through the students once more and flying out of the entrance hall towards the Forbidden Forest. Dumbledore turned to McGonagall, who stood beside him in shock. "Minerva, let us take Professor Séregon to the Infirmary." The transfiguration professor nodded, before conjuring a stretcher.

* * *

Filch ran down the stone steps of Hogwarts castle, huffing and puffing. He wasn't really used to long-distance running. It took him a nice total of ten minutes and fifteen seconds to finally reach the edge of the forest, by which his stamina wasn't holding out. Breathing heavily, he made his way into the dark foliage, carefully stepping over any tree roots that might be in the way. Ducking under a loose branch, the caretaker of Hogwarts looked around warily. He had finally realized that he didn't know how to find the elves. Looking around, he soon found that he couldn't figure out where he was.

Swearing, Filch continued on. After a short while of wandering aimlessly, he gave a heavy sigh. He turned to go back, to tell Dumbledore about his failure (though it wasn't really _his_ fault, the bloody elves were just too hard to find), only to freeze. An arrow was pointed right in his face, the cold, calculating silver eyes of an elven hunter trained on him from behind the bow. Soon, many more bows appeared from all around, in the trees above and several other hunters came out from the bushes. One hunter in particular, rather tall compared to Filch (then he realized that they were all like that) with haunting blue eyes and silvery-blond hair came to stand beside the elf whose arrow was pointed in his face. Placing a hand on the other elf's arm, he lowered the bow, the arrow tip now aimed at Filch's heart.

"Who are you, wandering within our borders," the hunter asked. Filch figured he was the leader. "My name is Filch. I was sent with a message from Dumbledore," he replied, gulping slightly as the elf gently moved the bow once more to rest at his throat. "To whom?" "King Lithinduiel," Filch replied nervously. The elf raised an elegant eyebrow. With a flick of his wrist, the others lowered their weapons, though they still remained cautious. The leader returned his gaze to the caretaker. Filch noticed that the arrow was still pointed at his throat. The leader would let the other elf kill him if he tried to escape. He gulped.

"I am Celeduil, Filch, captain of the elven hunters," the silver-haired elf said. "How important is this message? Does the headmaster require our aid?" Filch shook his head. "Dumbledore wanted to let the king know that there is a danger within Hogwarts," the caretaker replied. "A danger that has attacked one of the teachers, the elven professor to be exact." Celeduil moved quickly, pushing Filch to the ground. He grunted, struggling against the death grip that the captain had on his throat as the elf pinned him to the forest floor. "You will tell me what happened," he hissed, the blue eyes narrowed and hair falling over his shoulders to tickle Filch's face. The other elves had stiffened, their own eyes narrowed.

"A sixth year student found him looking out a window this morning," Filch wheezed, desperately sucking in air. "But he wasn't moving, not even to breathe. The kid asked if anything was wrong before going to get another professor. We don't know what exactly happened, or when." Celeduil let go, standing straight once more. Filch gulped in the forest air, struggling to stand. The captain was barking orders to the other elves in his native tongue, the language still sounding beautiful even though harsh. Several of the elves in the trees disappeared, no sound being made as they leapt deftly from branch to branch to quickly return to the king and inform him. Some of the rest disappeared also, to inform the other patrols. Only when a few remained, did Celeduil turn to Filch once more.

"We will be escorting you back to the castle," he said. "No doubt that the king will join us soon enough." Filch nodded, not commenting as the elves led him to the edge of the forest, nor when he led them up to the stone castle towering above all.

* * *

"King Lithinduiel! Your majesty!" Lithin looked up from one of his many councillors to the hunter, Tésinio, as he ran to greet his king. "Yes," he asked, raising an eyebrow. "What is it?" Tésinio went down on one knee, his expression worrisome. Many of the other elves that were present, for this level of the trees was considered a 'throne room' of sorts, hushed in their conversations and all attention was on the young hunter. Tésinio was among the younger elves of the forest, with his dark brown hair and grey eyes. He was a skilled hunter, though everyone knew he preferred the art of music, for he was skilled in many such instruments.

"A message came from Dumbledore, of Hogwarts," the elf replied. Many whispers were heard from the court before silence reined. "Well, what of it," Lithin asked, crossing his legs and tilting his head in a questioning manner. "There is a great evil up at the castle," Tésinio said quickly. "The messenger knew not what caused it, however, Huor son of Séregonin has been petrified." Lithin felt his breath catch, his eyes widening. More whispers broke out, cries of outrage and despair. Lithin uncrossed his legs, standing from the throne of tree roots. "How did this happen? How did you get this information?" Tésinio quickly explained how Filch, a rather haggard man from Huor's description of him, had come into the forest in search of the elves to inform them of the situation. Lithin felt his hands ball into fists, gritting his teeth.

Huor had told him of the last time this had occurred, approximately fifty years ago. Lithin and many of the other elves had spent a long time coaxing Huor out of his shell after that incident. It had taken five years, not long in an elf's life. The elven king stepped down from the throne.

"Inform prince Battresinduil and princess Vivrendella," Lithin commanded. One of the elven squires immediately gave a hurried bow and left. He turned to the councillors. "Do not let my siblings leave the _talans_, understood?" They nodded as Lithin moved. His gaze met Tésinio's. "Where is Celeduil?" "The captain left with Filch to return to the castle, your majesty." He nodded. "_Tolo ar nin_, Tésinio son of Dahlen." "Your majesty?"

Lithin walked past him, the blue eyes of his father narrowed determinedly. "A certain headmaster requires our presence."

* * *

_**Tolo ar nin **_**means "Come with me". **

**Yeah, really short chapter this time around. **


	12. Visitors of High Standing

**Disclaimer: **_**I do not own Harry Potter or Lord of the Rings.**_

**A/N: **_**I know, I promised to update at least a week after the last chapter came out…. I'm so sorry! I've been so lazy lately, plus the writer's block that hit was unexpected and uncalled for. With that said, I won't lie. The chances of me updating this story quickly are slim. I might as well take a hint from other authors and work on the chapters ahead of time, shouldn't I?**_

**Note about this chapter: **_**This chapter will primarily be focusing on the elves point of view. Therefore, any writing that is like **_"this" _**is elvish. Writing that is like **_**"this" **_**is English. **__"This" __**is thinking and flashbacks, as usual.**_

* * *

And so it was that a small party of elven hunters followed the Hogwarts caretaker, Argus Filch, into the majestic castle, much to the awe of the students. The leader of the group, Celeduil, Captain of the hunters, requested to speak to Dumbledore on a "matter of the upmost importance" (his eyes were both narrowed in anger and disappointment, at Dumbledore or the fact that this was the second time the incident occurred was unclear). Much later, much to the chagrin of many, king Lithinduiel himself arrived at the head of his own party, his siblings not included. Battresinduil and Vivrendella were both upset about their mentor, Huor Séregon's, petrification. Naturally, they both wanted to come and give the headmaster a good tongue-lashing (something that the two both inherited from their mother), much to Lithin's amusement (something that he inherited from his father. It was something he was glad for, with how his two younger siblings kept butting heads thanks to the stubborn natures they got from their mother). Of course, that doesn't excuse the fact that Lithin was angry, something that his advisors noticed. They gave him some space, slightly scared of the fake smile that he gave to those students that they passed in the halls.

The group followed one of the teachers, professor Minerva McGonagall, as she led them to the hospital wing. Lithin was glad that this headstrong woman was the Deputy-Headmistress, a role that she certainly earned with both the dignity that she displayed and the hard work that got her the position. _Huor always did like Minerva_, the elven king thought to himself, observing the lady in front of him out of the corner of his eye as he nodded to the many paintings lining the walls, _A lot of backbone. Something that he said Dumbledore needed. _

Albus Dumbledore. Lithin wasn't entirely sure of how to think of the man. He had met him when he was younger and attended Hogwarts, a time that was certainly far, far away. At that time, Albus was a respectable student, a model Gryffindor. However, Lithin always had this feeling that he knew more then he should. Many years ago, after the Potters were killed and the Longbottoms were driven into insanity, Lithin could remember a time when Huor was seething. He had snapped at people if they got too close, and his temper had made many of their fellows stay out of his way for the next four years. Naturally, right at the beginning of it, Lithin was asked by many of his advisors to do something about it. So, he asked what was wrong. This, of course set the older elf on a rant that lasted the next twenty minutes about how Albus shouldn't be doing this or that. When he finally got to the point, Lithin had been shell-shocked.

* * *

"_Placing Harry with the Dursleys? I mean, what is Albus thinking?" The elven professor had been pacing in front of his king by this point. Lithin's head snapped up. _

"_The Dursleys? You do not mean the family that Petunia Evans married into," he had asked, his blue eyes showing a deep concern. Huor threw his hands into the air. _

"_The very same," his old mentor exclaimed. "I've told him multiple times about how Lily came to me to talk about her sister, about how she feels that Petunia might hate her for her magic! I don't understand what in Valar's name he thought he was doing, sending Harry to live with his aunt and her magic-hating, muggle husband!" Lithin felt his eyes narrow._

"_And don't get me started on what happened to Sirius Black," Huor continued. "Not helping him when he was accused of murdering a friend?! After being the one to cast the charm that labelled Peter as the Potters' Secret Keeper?! This is bull-!"_

"_Wait," Lithin said, his hands raised slightly when the other elf turned to glare at him. "How do you know that Peter was the Secret Keeper?" Huor shrugged, sighing._

"_Lily told me right after, said it was Sirius' idea," he replied._

* * *

He had continued to rant some more before he had calmed down, thanking Lithin for listening and apologizing for hurting his ears with his yelling. It didn't stop him from stomping around for a little while longer before he finally let it slide. Lithin, however, doesn't forget things so easily. His father had told him multiple times that a hunter must always be aware of his surroundings, so Lithin had taken the time to think about all the things that Albus had done up to that point. Of course, Huor had started up his rant again during the summer, saying how Albus shouldn't have made the traps that protected the Philosopher's Stone so easy, saying that they should have been at least N.E.W.T. level. With that thought in mind, Lithin couldn't help but wonder: Why was such a valuable object at Hogwarts anyway? Wouldn't it be safer if it stayed in the hands of its creator? Huor was rather upset that Quirrell had died, he had been a model student.

Lithin shook his head, clearing his mind as they finally reached the hospital wing. Huor had told him multiple times to guard his mind, just to be safe from anything that might seek to harm him in his dreams. He had called it Occlumacy, though Lithin didn't know how much good it would do around powerful wizards such as Dumbledore.

"**Thank you, Minerva**," he said to the Transfiguration professor, bowing slightly with a tip of his head.

"**It was my pleasure**," she replied, nodding in reply, her lips turning upwards. "**I suggest knocking before you go in**," she added, pushing her glasses up the bridge of her nose. "**Poppy doesn't usually allow too many visitors in at once**."

"**I'll keep that in mind**." Lithin nodded once more as the professor turned to leave before looking to the infirmary door. Bidding his escort with a hand wave (to which the small party dispersed and spoke with the hunters, quietly in groups of two or three), Lithin went to the large wooden door and knocked. He waited patiently for the door to open, Madam Poppy Pomfrey greeting him.

"**Two others are already with him**," she said, letting him in. "**Be as quiet as you can**." Lithin followed the medi-witch through the white room with large windows, beds lining the walls on either side. He noted that several had blinds drawn, to which Lithin assumed that these were other petrified victims. The duo finally reached one of the beds, its blinds drawn. Walking behind them, Lithin nodded to both Celeduil and Urúvion. The latter stood, bowing before leaving quietly. The elven king took the vacated seat, crossing his legs as he peered curiously at Huor's frozen form.

The elven professor was lain down on the bed, his eyes wide in shock and fear. His hands were down by his sides, clenched and his mouth slightly agape. Lithin absently felt his forehead. He was stone cold. Sighing, Lithin leaned back in his seat, bringing a hand to his forehead and massaging the ache that was rapidly forming. Celeduil quietly stood, walking around the bed and placing a hand on his shoulder and giving him a small smile as he squeezed lightly. Lithin gave a sad smile in return, patting his friend's hand before the other elf left, leaving him alone with Huor. The elven king sighed, his head falling into his hands.

For many minutes he sat there silently, ignoring most of the going-ons around him. He was too busy sorting through memories, many of them happy and most of them involving Huor. There were the ones that he thought about involving his mother and father, the wonderful times they had before they left to the Undying Lands. This brought a smile to his face as he recalled a time when his ada and naneth got into an argument over who was a better shot with a bow. Battre had ended it by saying that he was better than the two of them combined.

He looked up to the chair on the opposite side of the bed when it was filled, its new occupant slightly uncomfortable. Lithin didn't recognize the boy, whose white blond hair was slicked back and his steel grey eyes curiously watching him. He blushed when he noticed that Lithin was aware of his presence.

"**Hello there**," he said quietly. The blond boy jumped slightly before calming and his face became impassive, though the light pink that tinged his pale cheeks became a darker shade.

"**Hello**," the boy politely replied. "**How are you**?"

"**Fine, I suppose**," Lithin said, shrugging. "**I do not believe we have formally met. I am Lithinduiel, son of Legolas. Who might you be?**" The boy puffed out his chest, his pointed chin raising.

"**I'm Malfoy**," he replied. "**Draco Malfoy. Nice to meet you**." Lithin smiled.

"**The pleasure is all mine. So tell me young Malfoy, what do you happen to be doing here?**" Draco shrugged, glancing to his petrified professor.

"**I wanted to visit professor Séregon, sir. He's one of my favourite teachers.**" Lithin chuckled, grinning. The young Slytherin (Lithin noted the green tie and the accompanying robes) blushed again.

"**Firstly**," the elven king began. "**Please don't call me 'sir'. I makes me feel old. Secondly, I don't suggest saying that in front of your dear professor, he has a big enough ego as it is.**" Draco snorted, rolling his eyes. Lithin continued chuckling.

"**I never knew he had a large ego**," Draco replied thoughtfully. Lithin's grin widened.

"**Trust me, he does**," he replied. "**Elves just don't show how pleased complements make us. Huor especially, and he does a rather good job of hiding it.**" At this, the young student smirked.

"**Well, professor Séregon was a Slytherin, wasn't he? We're naturally good at masking our expressions.**" Lithin felt a smirk coming onto his face as well.

"**Indeed**," he replied, then added teasingly, "**Though some more than others.**" Once more, Draco blushed, frowning as Lithin chuckled. The two continued to talk quietly before Poppy returned to inform the young Slytherin that he should be going. Both stood from their seats and left the hospital wing together before Lithin spotted the Headmaster coming towards him. Draco waved goodbye, to which Lithin returned before turning his attention to Dumbledore.

"**King Lithinduiel**," Dumbledore said, bowing. "**I was not expecting you today. One of your advisors informed me that you wished to speak with me?**" Lithin could feel his previously forgotten anger returning slowly, his gaze avoiding to look directly into the twinkling blue eyes. The surrounding spectators held their breaths as they watched the scene, their conversations forgotten. Many couldn't understand English, something that a few of them were glad for judging from their king's raging eyes.

"**Yes**," Lithin replied, his polite tone clipped and forced. "**I wondered when you were going to explain how this occurred. Or perhaps explain why this is happening **_**again**_**?**" The elven king crossed his arms, eyes narrowed and blue eyes flashing dangerously. His voice was rather quiet, Dumbledore having to strain his ears to hear, though once he did, he explained as best he could. From how students said that they saw Huor leave the Great Hall just before the Duelling Club was dismissed to how he was found. Lithin listened with rapt attention. Finally, when Dumbledore was finished, Lithin nodded slowly, his eyes still narrowed.

"We're leaving," he said, turning his head to Celeduil, who nodded before gesturing for the elves to gather. The king turned back to the Headmaster. "**Well then, we'll just be getting out of your way. I expect to hear of any changes in his condition right as they happen.**" When Dumbledore nodded, Lithin and the elves left quickly, silently making their way through the halls and out the front hall. They quickly made their way to the courtyard and towards the Forbidden Forest.

Upon entering under the tall trees, the group split; Celeduil and the hunters continuing on their patrol while the king and his entourage made their way home.


	13. The Second Year's End

**Disclaimer: **_**I do not own Harry Potter or Lord of the Rings.**_

**A/N: **_**Hmm, not much to say this time. Enjoy the chapter! There's just this one, then the bloopers, and then we start on PoA! Can't wait!**_

* * *

It's common knowledge that news travelled fast in Hogwarts school of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Ginny Weasley had just been taken down into the Chamber of Secrets, and just as quickly was rescued by Harry Potter. During all this though, Madam Pomfrey had just managed to wake many of the petrified, who were now sitting up from their year-long naps, with really bad headaches. Huor groaned, his fingers kneading into his forehead, his eyes blinking wearily.

Across the room, Madam Pomfrey had just woken Hermione Granger, helping the young Gryffindor sit up. Huor smiled kindly to the girl as he turned in his bed and placed his feet onto the white marble floor. Slowly standing, the elven professor stretched, wincing as his back cracked. The healer rushed over.

"Professor Séregon! Back in bed now," she exclaimed, pushing down so he was sitting once more. "You haven't been on your feet since before Christmas!" Huor felt his eyes widen. Had it really been that long? He pouted up at the woman.

"Poppy," he said. "I'm a grown elf. I can take care of myself!" The healer glared at him, Huor wincing as he prepared for the vocal backlash he was sure to receive. Suddenly, the doors to the wing flew open, a red haired boy practically dragging a much taller man rushing in. Ron Weasley hurriedly looked around the room, his eyes noticing his friend sitting up and well. He grinned, dropping Lockhart onto the floor.

"Hermione! You're okay," he exclaimed, running to hug her. The bushy haired girl smiled back. Together, the two drew away from each other and began talking in hushed whispers. Both older staff members chuckled, before turning to look at the man still on the floor. Huor paled.

"What happened, Lockhart," he asked, raising an eyebrow. Poppy ran over, lifting the man and dragging him to a bed. The golden haired wizard had a confused expression on his face. "Who? Wait, why do you have such pointy ears? Are you cosplaying," the DADA professor asked. Huor felt a vein begin to throb in his head, his lips turning into a frown. The elven professor glared at the students in the room as many of them snickered quietly to themselves.

"Five points from each of you for laughing at me," he said, crossing his arms and pouting once more. The students continued to snicker, causing Huor to roll his eyes. He turned to look at Ron as Poppy asked what happened.

"He was going to use a Memory Charm on me and Harry-," Ron began. "Harry and I," Huor interrupted, his mouth a thin line at the use of improper grammar. Ron turned slightly pink. "Sorry professor. He was going to use a Memory Charm on Harry and I, when the wand backfired." Poppy sighed, shaking her head before turning to her new patient. "You'll have to get a new one," Hermione said to the red haired boy, who nodded in agreement. Noticing that Poppy was busy, Huor slipped off his bed, steadying himself with the bed rail and then quietly leaving the room. After he closed the door, he took off running.

Poppy looked up from Lockhart to the empty bed before sighing. "Honestly," she muttered. The students began to laugh.

* * *

After making it away from the hospital wing, breathing heavily, Huor began to make his way to his office. Suddenly as he turned the corner, he bumped into someone.

"_Ai_," he exclaimed, stumbling backwards. The other simply grunted, surprised before both looked at each other. Blue met grey as they caught gazes. Huor raised an eyebrow.

"Lucius, _gi suilon_," Huor said, giving a small bow. "I apologize for crashing into you."

"Professor Séregon," the older Malfoy replied, nodding in return. "It's fine. I heard about the…. Well, unfortunate circumstances." Huor felt a grimace cross his face. "More like really bad luck, on my part," he replied. Lucius smirked, chuckling. He raised his snake-headed cane, gesturing further up the stairs. Huor followed the Malfoy lord, the heels of his boots clicking on the stairs.

"What are you doing here," he asked, turning his head to look at the man. A look of pure fury crossed onto Lucius' face as he continued walking. "I have business to conduct with the headmaster." Huor frowned, his gaze travelling to the bandaged house-elf that followed, a look of terror on its face. "I see," he replied, falling quiet one more. Lucius opened one of the wooden doors at the next flight, walking through and into the Transfiguration corridor. Huor followed, his ears pricked, listening to a conversation that occurred within McGonagall's office.

"We'll be needing a new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher," Dumbledore was saying when they were just outside. "Dear me, we seem to run through them, don't we?" Lucius then pushed open the door, Huor wincing as it hit the wall. The Malfoy strode in, the house-elf right behind him. Huor leaned on the doorframe, crossing his arms, his eyes narrowing in concern.

"Good evening, Lucius," said Dumbledore in a pleasant tone. He smiled over the taller man's shoulder to Huor. "Professor Séregon! I am glad to see you well." "_Ni lassui_," Huor replied, tilting his head. Harry quickly moved out of the way as Lucius brushed past to stand in front of Dumbledore, almost knocking the boy over.

"So," Lucius said coldly. Huor could almost imagine his eyes shining threateningly. "You've come back. The governors suspended you, but you still saw fit to return to Hogwarts." "Well, you see, Lucius," Dumbledore began calmly, "the other eleven governors contacted me today. It was something like being caught in a hailstorm of owls, to tell the truth. They'd heard that Arthur Weasley's daughter had been or killed and wanted me back here at once. They seemed to think I was the best man for the job after all. Very strange tales they told me, too. Several of them seemed to think that you had threatened to curse their families if they didn't agree to suspend me in the first place." Huor sighed.

"Albus," he began. All attention was on him. He frowned. "What have I said about using Legilimency on unsuspecting persons?" The twinkle in the headmaster's eyes dimmed ever so slightly. "Not to do it," he replied quietly. "Exactly! You may think you have a right to know just about everything Albus, but that does not include using these ways to do so!" Huor sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose.

"So ," Lucius asked after a moment of silence, "have you stopped the attacks yet? Have you found the culprit?" Dumbledore smiled again, the twinkle returning. "We have." "Well," Lucius said sharply, "who is it?"

"The same person as last time, Lucius," said Dumbledore, holding up a small black book. A large hole was in the center and black ink was oozing onto the desk. "But this time, Lord Voldemort was acting through someone else. By means of this diary." "I see," Lucius said slowly. Dumbledore continued to stare the older Malfoy in the eye, Harry watching closely.

"A clever plan," Dumbledore continued, "because if Harry here and his friend Ron hadn't discovered this bok, why –Ginny Weasley might have taken all the blame. No one would ever be able to prove that she acted of her own free will." Huor's eyes travelled to Lucius' face. It had transformed into a mask, his lips in a straight line.

"And imagine," the headmaster continued, "what might have happened then… The Weasleys are one of our most prominent pure-blood families. Imagine the effect on Arthur Weasley and his Muggle-Protection Act, if his own daughter was discovered attacking and killing Muggle-borns. Very fortunate that the diary was discovered, and Riddle's memories wiped from it. Who knows what the consequences might have been otherwise…"

"Very fortunate," Lucius replied stiffly. Huor simply raised an eyebrow. All was silent until Harry spoke up, turning all attention to him.

"Don't you want to know how Ginny got hold of that diary, Mr. Malfoy?" Lucius rounded on the younger boy. "How should I know how the stupid little girl got hold of it?" "Because you gave it to her," Harry replied, "In Flourish and Blotts. You picked up her old Transfiguration book, and slipped the diary inside it, didn't you?" Lucius clenched his fists. Huor blinked in disbelief.

"You can't prove it," the Malfoy lord hissed. "Oh, no one will be able to do that," said Dumbledore, giving a smile to Harry. Huor clenched his teeth. "Not now Riddle has vanished from the book. On the other hand, I would advise you, Lucius, not to go giving out any more of Lord Voldemort's old school things. If any more of them find their way into innocent hands, I think Arthur Weasley, for one, will make sure they are traced back to you…." Lucius stood silently, his hand twitching as if he wanted to reach for his wand, before turning to the house-elf.

"We're going Dobby!" He stormed passed Huor, and as Dobby rushed to him, he kicked him right through the opening. A loud squeal was heard. Huor winced, watching Lucius continue to kick the house-elf down the corridor.

"Professor Dumbledore," Harry asked, turning Huor's attention to him again. "Can I give that diary back to Mr. Malfoy, please?" "Certainly Harry," Dumbledore replied calmly. "But hurry. The feast, remember?" Harry then grabbed the diary and rushed out past Huor. The elven professor watched as the boy turned the corner, towards the sound of the continuous squeals of pain. Huor turned his glare to the old man still in the office.

"You better have a good reason for insulting two of my best students," he hissed. "I wasn't insulting anyone," Dumbledore said, folding his fingers together. "I was merely stating fact." "_Dôl gîn lost_! _Rhaich_, Dumbledore!" "There is no need for you to yell," he replied. Huor felt his lip curl into a snarl, pushing off the doorframe, angrily.

"Tell me, Huor," Dumbledore said, "Do you think Voldemort will return?" "It's only a matter of time. Though my answer, and the answer of the elves remain the same. We. Are. Neutral!" "Are you sure," the headmaster asked, raising an eyebrow. Huor could feel the unwanted presence in his mind when he locked eyes with the man. The elven professor kept his mind shields up, pushing back the presence before turning away. "_Boe i'waen_," he said. "I'll see you at the feast."

* * *

The Hogwarts feast was greeted with many cheers, for much of the news was good. Huor didn't know what was better, the fact that he didn't have to plan any exams, or the fact that Lockhart wouldn't be coming back. Both were pretty good. He gave a large grin to the students. He wouldn't be having any nightmares anytime soon.

* * *

_**Ai **_**means "Eek!" Not the most manly thing to say, is it?**

_**Gi suilon **_**means "I greet you".**

_**Ni lassui**_** means "Thank you".**

_**Dôl gîn lost **_**means "Your head is empty".**

_**Rhaich**_** means "Curses". **

_**Boe i'waen**_** means "I must go".**


End file.
